How sad are our misapprehensions.
How much we are misunderstood
Despite our best efforts,
Despite the best of intentions.
With the scribble of a smile we hope
To address the matter in hand,
Like a frank and forward glance,
Like a speeded envelope.
As with any double bluff,
Any take-it-or-leave-it offer,
A guess may well be right,
A guess is good enough.
Eyes required some sort of response
Though they quickly turned away.
You had a moment to reply.
You had a moment once.
Whatever it was, it was what it meant.
Though it is pure conjecture now,
Like a letter never opened,
Like a letter never sent.
