Six

This was written wrt an unrequited love

When you didn’t try, and I didn’t mind

because like anything that intrigued me,

you would soon die away.

But in six, you remain a perennial continuance 

At six, you send butterflies in my stomach

By six I would lose you again.

You didn’t seem to realize that I am always behind

A backdrop, almost a ubiety.

I would have preferred to flounder, for my throat to cut my words

or to be led into a fluster.

But events were never fortuitous.

What happened to the girl who would stumble on her feet in his sight

Or the boy who would steal peeks when they brushed across each other along the corridors

Who would have known how adamant she could be

Helpless for a better word.

Before six she faltered

After six is a point of no return