You see,
She has been a slippery fin,
An elusive mermaid,
A pin in the haystack.
Yet I have found her,
Befriended her,
Talked to her,
As she talked to me,
Spent sometime,
Fooled around,
Yet she slips from my grip.
Many times I have showed and told,
My love to her,
Don't know if its the right way,
Or if it's my way,
She says no not,
She says yes not,
She leaves me in a tight spot,
I can't brush her off,
For I keep coming back,
I can't look for others,
For she hasn't said no,
I say, she leaves me in a tight spot.
She says she's not ready to love,
To me,
That's indirect of saying,
'i don't love you, but I will if you make me ready'
I don't know how ready-for-love is,
I don't know what she looks for,
I thought love is subconscious,
Something wired in our genes.
Well,
Tired of the wait,
I choose to love art,
To read listen and watch her,
To take her around the world,
At least she doesn't say no,
Art loves many,
She knows love comes from loving others,
Am willing to be one of the crowd in love,
Rather than wait for love.
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