White noise buzzes through my head
As I sit in the lounge -- all alone;
I think of you -- your smile,
And then I think of home.

I think of long and complicated words
Whose meaning I'll never learn,
I think of dark hair and dark eyes
For whom my passion bums.

I miss you already,
Although you are just asleep,
I've caught myself in an affair
That is already too deep.

It's not really an affair
But it's more than just lust,
I know that I like you --
It's love that I can't trust.

28 Jan 1988