Balcony Love Affair

Another journey down the street i must endure with her,
no pain to my own, but to display too much pleasure will be foolish of me.

We regularly make these strolls,
always at her convenience
and often for no single purpose.
She is quite a browser...and i am quite impatient,
but i find solace in her eyes.

Never once have i revoked her invitation...seldom to no regret,
i have wasted many days and grown a slave to her will.
Never misused though,
our adventures only range a couple feet of road before our love is intercepted by higher rooftops.
But i remain quiet,
angered only when the sun retires and leaves us separated by darkness.

Random music being played enchanting her body,
a dance is shared to the delight of neighboring eyes.
We sway carelessly,
hair loose...tangled in the air's grip.
Paying no heed to time since it urges to put our love on halt.

She approaches the corner,
our time together dwindling,
she watches me and smiles,
showing no fear to our ended affair.

Tomorrow we shall have each other again,
another date,
another opportunity for my courage not to fail.
Shall i ask to join her around the corner?

Maybe

But for now i will say goodbye/hello to my love from my balcony

I have long emancipated from my balcony,
Finally courage finds us mere breaths apart...well sort of
Our daily escapades continue,
new venue...but still, somewhat scenic

We chat now, on foolish stares and cowardly men
men who indulge only in gaps of time
the days, weeks...countless hours, spent gazing from above,
as she danced into my soul on her way home.

Yet, finally, here we are,
the lovers that distance once conquered.
But who am i to regret? the honour, the privilege
to view, to be a part of her majestic journeys

Often our conversations lean to a more sinister endeavour,
the hatred for the reckless, time wasting...man
But, its haste that has changed our location,
haste that angered the pistons, that released me from my balcony

Screeching Tyres can't alarm those already subdued by them.

I sat as i always did, a slave to the moment
My love, as angelic as ever, making her evening stroll
Hair loose...tangled in the air's grip
I watched, as she slipped onto to the street...as he mashed the pedal

And now, i tell her of how wonderfully she was packaged,
her face mauled by tyre marks...made well again with makeup,
how she was adorned in fine linings and rose petals
and how i, leave my balcony daily to visit her grave