[NaPoWriMo poem #7.]
We Will Never Get to the Courtship Stage
I know these early morning streets,
unlike you, and I can become one
with the pavement in seconds. Look
around and you’ll be lucky to catch
sight of a tree with a handbag
caught in a branch, swaying
in the wind, in the fear of discovery.
Funny how I used to be all about
staying open to possibilities.
Possibly I won’t be around for you
to kick. So why let you get close?
I’ll cat and mouse you until someone else
comes along and distracts you from what
you believe is a prize. I’ll hold
my breath and dart around corners,
race across empty intersections, keeping
eyes front, fixed on the near future,
my resolve trying not to waver.