Hello Jasmine.
I am too drunk to be formal-
as you can tell.
How’re you?
You’re a student?
Not at all concerned with what I have to say?
I can’t blame you.
The student hardly has anything to say anyways.
The professor too.
Just the same old story.
Your head is buried in a textbook.
I admire you,
truly.
The grind of college,
it sounds brutal.
I don’t envy you.
Where is something new though, Jasmine?
Where is the creativity, Jasmine?
What this world needs,
is more artist,
who won't remember their art in the morning!
The drunk,
carefree poet!
Oh?
There’s been a lot of those?
It’s a cliche?
Well damn Jasmine,
there is no need to shoot a man in the heart,
or put his ego in check.
Let him drink in peace.
Let him live in his delusion .
Maybe it hurts more because you are beautiful,
and driven,
and you’ve been making me coffee and drinks here
for awhile now,
and I always thought
that the way you looked at me,
was different…
I thought,
you were trying to tell me something.
I thought your eyes were alive,
when they connected with mine.
How deep the poet's delusion goes…
It is actually terrifying, Jasmine.
Oh no, I’ve over shared!
Once again,
I’ve said too much.
I’ve realized too much…
Oh?
Really?
A drink sometime?
Yeah okay,
I suppose I can do that.
Let me check my schedule
That look then?
I see…
What a beautiful smile you have, Jasmine.
-C.H.
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