A Romance of Little Words

Alone in the world with no one to turn to

these blank faces like apparitions

or perhaps I'm the ghost that no one sees

uninteresting with little to say

but how I wish to speak to any one

if they could only give me a minute;

aren't such things worth proving?

But in the library, silence is the unspoken rule

perhaps the same rule that society imposes on me.

Gazing around from the head of my book

our eyes meet, a prolonged lock

a sense of familiarity dawns upon me

as she slides her fingers neatly past her ear,

breaks our glance, and continues to read.

Have I not seen her before?