Monologue With Dialogue: A Poetic Journal
A Chapter in the Education of a Young Woman
He looks at me so strangely.
His gaze
strays right above
The place where I am sitting.
His eyes
Are filled with love.
You fool!
His eyes are focused on
The ceiling and the wall...
He gazes there in boredom
And sees you
Not at all.
No, no- he loves me dearly-
How plain it is to see.
His tender smile just radiates
His love and warmth
To me.
You idiot!
His ‘tender smile’
Is just a sickly grin .
The ‘love’ he ‘radiates’
Is not
Much deeper than
His skin.
His love for me is something
Only I can understand...
His shyness is the reason
He can’t offer me
His hand.
His ‘shyness’ is a cynicism
Grounded in crude stone...
He can’t commit to crushing it.
He wants to be
ALONE.
Alone?
He sits and watches me,
Wishing I were there.
I am not blind. I can’t ignore
A lonely, loving stare.
The stare?
Part of a silly game
That he wants you to play.
Ignore it.
Soon you’ll find that it
Will simply go away.
I’ve never played a game like this
With anybody sane...
And anyway, what is the point?
What could he hope to gain?
He’s gained a lot
Just knowing that
You’re falling for his game...
And if you do,
He’ll think you’re just
Another silly dame.
I think that I am finally
Beginning- what?- to learn...
He looked away.
I wonder if
He thinks that it’s my turn.
He does.
So simply smile,
Then stand,
Then walk the other way.
He’s not much of a player
If there’s nothing
Left
To say.
