Poem of the Day- Linger



For a long time, I met the eye, of every tall stranger I passed.


it might be love.

This could be it.

I’d linger longer over the ones,

of appropriate age,

appropriate handsomeness.


they would call me back; or write a letter to the Missed Connections, citing my height and intense eyes, so I would know it was me.

That happened rarely,

like a blue moon, but enough to make me insanely believe in blue moons.



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