although she nods, pats my shoulder, and says, “Don’t worry about it, Dear, I know you’ve been busy. I know you have more important concerns on your mind,” I can tell that behind those soft brown, pseudo-sympathetic eyes lurks a maniacal, mindless, slaveringly hideous female beast, already plotting her revenge for me not having noticed her new hair-do.



in the twilight I see her across the grass and the folding chairs and faded blankets talking with some friends, gesticulating, pushing the hair back off her face, and I think how very pretty she is still, and listen intently, like a fox with its ears pricked, for the sounds of her precious voice to reach me in brief, simple, unorganized tones



I always felt I should do something unusual or extreme to win her over, to gain her attention, her look of approval, like serenade her or call out to her from beneath her window like in the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet, climb a ladder, snatch her away, her knight in armor shining like the moon


first kiss

we’re up in the spotlight booth as the lights go dim in the high school auditorium, she seems so happy, yes, she does seem happy, quietly waiting with her eyes closed tight allowing me to steal my first kiss from her there alone in the night



on the steps outside the old gym, early winds of autumn blowing in from across the playing fields, I have to try and tell her, I must tell her, about her unspeakable softness, her shattering beauty, her shining brown eyes, her sweet, feminine scent, but all I can proclaim is, “I love you,” and clasp her precious hands desperately in mine



under an empty moon, I walked the three miles from my house to her house, hid in her back yard, down low in the bushes, waiting, hoping, for a mere glimpse of her sweet, pure, white form moving up in her bedroom window



she’s incredulous as I tell her my terrible dream where she no longer loves me, her eyes staring empty, so empty, into space


by Michael Estabrook  



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