I cannot wait in this silence: I shall merely go on keeping on as if this Hello-ing is just what it has been, a surface
For some days, I have not seen You. The-better I'd not infer. The Woman and Her silences, and the pinsneedles hE makes of them are just part of a dance, the dance of approach and of-course avoidance which is the symphony, not of love, but of the uncertain business of living. Maybe You are on vacation; maybe You are married and He objects; maybe You changed Your mind-- as Girls do TheirRight Y'know. Maybe You fear me because I said not-to-fear-me as most women do, Why? The familiar tone of the seeming NiceGuy may mean the SeriousGuy, and that terrorizes even You after I said please no terror I am just the nice guy, almost completely tamed of genderizing, do-too just want a friend to whom I can say Hello in the morning at Ekstrom Library. . . Where I live, where-I-be is a lonely place, with men who hate me because I am half-woman, and on the other hand with presence simultaneously of would-be seductors who smacklips about a nice rough love, push&shove. You are just a passerby...