a secret diary

I am sorry princess I’m so slow in loving. Believe me, it is inexperience, this inability to show affection, the long minutes without words and then a clumsy pinch perhaps while sipping wine, while all the time I thought “Tell her!” But didn’t. Instead thought and tugged as boys I’m told do in adolescence, but didn’t say, “I have traveled here miles, it is so cold outside, to be near you without plan or strategem in my head, I know I appear dead, sulkyand silent but my greatest need is to be with you without speaking. I cannot talk in person I converse on phones eyes unseen and then say what in person remains unsaid. I’m a sad and moody self and your buoyancy lifts my life. No not mistake my silence”. I am speechless in two ways. If a third I would not attend your knitting, sitting putting on a button, so. The plastic flower rearranged. Her glasses, new, perched on her nose that I know would receive my kiss if I would give it. But I still sit spellbound possibilities and amazed at my own dullness. But do not be deceived. In my head are a thousand words for each and every love song.