Thoughts on a bus ride.

It's been a while since we saw the other's face.
So the lines of her face look a little blurry to me.
Her fragrance that I could feel on me,
only remains as a faint reminiscence.
Her ringing laughter echoes somewhere in the back of my mind,
but I know not what to make of all of this.
But once when I felt her pulse, I felt 2 hearts in abyss.

She tells me that the words she reads, look like they are mine.
She finds me in the face of others, and I think, that ain't a good sign.
And asks me stupid questions, of things I like, things I love
Sadly my answers go, but to her mind's around, below and above.
Who came up with the notion that men and women are saints
Rudy puritans, ruining the joy of life, with their black and white paints.
And to those who know not, maketh happiness a task herculean
Eat, drink and make merry, says the epicurean.

I think, think , think and think
But only at times, between moments I blink.
Of whether or not, and what to say
And then, I tell my thoughts to go away.
To call, to poke, to text, or ping
To hear her say just "nothing"
I know she hurts, from her sound
But little I can do, If I ain't around.
It is a problem she won't see
For I'm still stuck with "Let it be"..