A working talk

    My eyes strain to pursue a stare. Concentrating
hard on all the possibilities. Still the eyes are worn,
weary of the mundane chores of today's workload.

     Many thoughts crawl over the mind. Some lay
hidden and some shine brightly. Ah how simple today
would be if I gathered my strength and pushed
fast into the afternoon hours.

     Sitting, drinking an afternoon warming, coffee. A
hint of mocha and soy milk to ease the stomach of
the strong growls. Oh excitement of the moment when
I can escape this red and khaki day.

      Just not the joy I feel everyday. Perhaps I could
blame it one the weather, but why? The truth is that
I miss people I want to see. Still to no avail I get up
and press on. Yes I hope to see you every moment
I can yet the reality is all I can have is memories.

     Not sad about that thought, that reality. Just tired
of the dreams being so real I can taste, I can feel.
So uncertain how to get up from one of those dreams.

     Ah as it is, walking erases some of those emotions,
some of those distant glances. Carefully I tread
softly around some, even eggshells I dare myself
not to crack. Not wanting to disturb their mindset.

    One by one the thoughts crave that voice. To hear
the one I am hoping for. To touch the face once more,
to hold long enough to brand image deep into mind.
Holding onto the last impression for years to come.
Only is it up to them, to hold tighter, to want me.
Their choice. Not mine.

    Now back across the traffic of registers and people.
Back to my boat of safety. Only a few short hours and
I get to depart from these layers I applied. To finally
peel away to the real me.

       Would you care to see who that woman is?