"today i sit here and copy my heart."

i waited all day yesterday, patiently. i got the pen and papers ready.
i planned to rush home after work, have dinner, take a shower.
when i reached home i cleared out some space on my messy desk,
and have the stationery well placed, letterheads pressed straight.
i took out my favourite long dress, i got it this late summer.
it is too long for me to go out with, but long enough for me to feel safe in.
i thought of sitting by the desk in the twilight, beginning the oldest form of love ritual --
writing a loveletter. i had the first sentence well composed,
"today i sit here and copy my heart."

but after shower, the plan failed.
the poetess disappeared. i felt tired, going to bed without falling asleep.
when i was concious again it was already eight in the morning.
i thought i would do it tonight, i thought
i would rush home and have dinner,
and shower.
but it was suddenly rainy and cold,
and i forgot the pens and papers at work.