The Girl in my Head

This girl sitting in the back of the cafe

reading The Social Contract, 

I think she fell straight out of my head,

she's not too tall and so slender,

with

luscious dark skin,

I hope it smells like coffee,

s**t, I'm a creep,

what if she looks up at me right as I'm inhaling

her imaginary coffee scent from across the room?

but she just keeps on reading,

eyelids fluttering rapidly,

as her hand reaches upwards to tip her hat slightly,

then to her lips then back down to turn the page,

damn,

am I mad to wish for nothing more

than to be that page her wet fingers just turned?

she doesn't notice her tipped hat is still tipping,

I guess it likes living in the present rather than the past,

oh,

this girl in my head,

could she be her?

if we were in my head I would quickly walk over,

and catch her hat just as it drops

from her hair,

which would cling slightly to her face as she looked up

at me,

and I'd say,

"Maybe your hat just wanted to be free

from the chains",

get it?

Because it's Rousseau?

It's not that funny but in my head she'd laugh,

at my pathetic attempt at levity,

but in reality,

she simply takes her hat back,

with a curt nod and a mumbled thanks,

and not even a second glance,

spared to the fool that deceived himself into obsessing,

over the girl that might be the girl in his head,

without pondering if he was the guy that might be in hers.

Reviews

[Pegs Van Damme]

Holy Jumpin'. fantastic work with the perfect ending line, boss. Such a real experience even for the reader when you mention the coffee scent,tipped hat, wet fingers and absence of a second glance.