I was writing to ask for support
to gain access to that place where
directions are given so that
gifts never lose themselves
and arrive at the doorsteps
of those that expect them.
I never made it past “hello”.
As you walked on by I wondered
“has she read Flow or Perhaps, Tomorrow”?
I don't know. I am assuming it is so.
And I wish they have nothing to do
with your long face that seldom is
even when it seems that you are mad.
I would ask what made it so that
you walk with such pace and determination
when it's a short distance between two doors.
But if I said I that knew the answer
and end up simply being wrong;
would it hurt you to hear
that I thought you hated me?
“Would you be capable of that, though?”
was the question that I pondered for two days
and ended up believing that hate wasn't your way.
Let me find it.
Give me direction.