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This is not rational. The plant on the floor
Flips its little green hands at me
As if to say Why
Can’t you take these things calmly as others do?
Why must every circumstance be a setting for your panic
Your voracious fear?
What a bandied about word love is but what other word for the way
Your voice
reaches inside me as though it were my own?
I see you repairing a watch,
Turning it this way and that to discover its secrets,
break its resistance
and I long to be in your hands like that
under your calm and practical gaze.
When our coffee date is over
And it’s time to walk away
I try to be sophisticated, debonair and cool.
But I am none of these, I am acting. I play the part
Of a casual acquaintance who
Having said what there is to be said smiles
Kisses you and walks way.
Perhaps my kiss betrays me
And somewhere a phantom director irately declares
No, no. Don’t cling like that
Anyone would think you’re in love.
Copyright 2026 Elizabeth Romero

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I love Betsy’s poetry! Thanks for continuing to post her poems, Michael.
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