Miss You

I thought I saw you on the tram
I think
I could only see the back of her head but she had a similar haircut to you

Maybe she was prettier

But she sought of was leaning over writing like you do sometimes

I'm not really sure if she was female

I kept glancing back because I really did think it looked alot like you.
Through the crowd of people on the tram who were standing,
there was a little gap where I could watch this person from behind
I felt like walking up and having a strange conversation with them like we normally do
But then something was more interesting outside the window so I forgot about it until now

I wish you were here.

The Dog Of Love

Striving, working so hard to be casual.
What's it like? To be able to say 'I love you' so effortlessly?
To take for granted such a rare and strange gift?
I cannot stand to watch lovers fall apart over such meaningless and pitiful things, how dare they waste what they have?
It is no different than throwing out a full roast in front of starving dogs and then shooing them away, punishing them for coming too near.
I, the dog of love.
Cursed to witness beauty swindle its fortunes.
I'd have preferred to have never been exposed.
The flightless bird cannot miss the sky.
Now I am nothing but loves audience for its puppet show, dangling desire with such majesty so as to only allow me to sit in awe, longing to play a part.
But every show needs its viewer, or then who is there to watch it end and congratulate such a performance?