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.