How close we stood by the winter glass
elbow to elbow, our coats all wet
and you, so serious
poring through the pages,
never once asked if I was bored.
I rose to task, I glowed and swelled
Our arms near one another, and the church
more hushed each month that goes.
Hard to think I didn't know you once,
And that you never thought of me
Harder still to imagine another girl
learning you as I have,
swept up in your earnest appraisal
of some other book.
(I feel unmeant for anyone else,
and I twine about it firm)














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