She's standing in the midnight mist
wandering about the place
thinking of you all the time
watching for any flash of lights
to say that you're awake
Pining night and day,
you're always on her mind
she writes your name in cursive
over and over
her sweetest desire is to make you
hers.
She stood a few steps away from you
just last week in that bookstore
in the sparkling, oceany, New England town
and whispered your name
but, mistaking her for someone else
you put the book back down
and walked away
She broke a little that day
but she's pretty used to it by now
and so much tougher than her delicate beating would indicate
you can try to ignore her
but she'll never go away
she's sneaky like that
she'll just come back again
when
you're more tired of not living your dreams
and more ready to listen
to
your
heart.
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