She winked, and the tale begins.
I, with the roving eye, must confess.
Always looking for an acknowledgement,
Of the wink or two I give. A recognition.
And when it comes, I tarry.
Too bold to approach.
Too scared if I read her wrong,
But must know for sure.
Therein lies many stories,
Of which mine fits right in.
I wondered, as i fell asleep,
Did I do the right thing?
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Love ya!
Jane