I still look for her
Everywhere I go
My head stays on a swivel
If there is even a small chance
That I might see her
But
I haven’t
In a long time now
Maybe 6 or 7 months
And even then
We didn’t say a word to each other
My heart was going over the speed limit
And I thought that it was going to crash
As she sat right in front of me
Still
The eyes search for her blonde hair
And her blue eyes
And her black clothes
And her pointy elbows
Even as I write this
I turn to the door
To see if she is walking in
My roommates tell me
Not to drive to the next town over
To write and read
But then…
I wouldn’t have the small chance of running into her
And that small chance
That’s hope
And I need hope
To keep moving
Some philosophers
Have said that hope is a vice
I didn’t understand that back when I heard it
But now
I think
Maybe there is something to that…
-C.H.
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