|
By Echolocation Date: 2001 Sep 16 Comment on this Work [[2001.09.16.09.52.13407]] |
|
Casting like a master fly fisherman I float elaborate lures before you In the dense air of cocktail conversation Wary bright-colored hints, glittering veiled suggestions Carefully designed to catch your eye Drifting downward beside you My whole being sensitive to the slightest tug, The tiniest twitch of line. And once or twice in the evening, maybe With the sound of your voice saying my name The touch of your lips on mine Or a brief glimpse of tenderness in your eyes The line goes taut - For a breathless moment it thrums with tension Time stands still And I think I have you Until the line slackens again Somehow I've never managed to set the hook Despite all the nibbles You just keep taking the bait and running away I'm left with nothing but the ripples on the surface What am I using for bait? Ah, yes -- it's my heart. |