Only the Bravehearted

A braver girl than I would launch a rocket to your lips

but instead I take honours in spectatorship,

awaiting deliverance in the corridors of shyness,

searching your face for clues that prove

that you dream of lying in some other woman’s arms.


A braver girl than I would not strangle her passion in rhetoric

but let it dance free, barefoot in the embers of desire.


instead I, Quixote style fight with adversity, proving beyond all doubt that a firmer self-esteem needs no hooks to hang itself upon.


A braver girl than I would risk rejection, laughing boldly in the face of unrequited attraction,

but not I,

I who seek in triplicate assurance that once unleashed, desire will never to be chained again to solitude or lace lures of opportunity be case into inky waters.