Talking over me, always, sticky palms asking everyone to stop.
Found myself again, in the same room, in the same gloom;
Flash of honey eyes, looking further away. Turning around,
I turned back around. Chocolate eyes, almost level with mine.
Bonsoir, ola, hello. I bid thee adieu.
One less Pair of eyes to look over mine.
Like a bash of waves against cliff, persistence was her trip.
Bonsoir, ola, hello? Good evening to you too.
Almost missed a chance of eyes boring into mine.
Eyes clinging onto every word of speech.
In years, I was speechless. Not, for lack of talking,
But for too much of it.
-maybe a continuation soon?