I’m a bit undone and a whole heap of blithering

at that second sight of you today–

From my eyes:

Something singular and infinite.

From yours:

(Hopefully) Something like a question mark?

(Probably) He ought not to love me so soon.

Oh God

I might have talked too fast or

Did I wipe that bit of mustard? or

Looked a general fool, unserious and unlovable.

Maybe not, if hope can avail me.

If hope can avail me, I will turn my head whichever direction asked

by the placing of your gaze upon me,

and we will make ourselves regular occurrences.

You wrote my song the moment you came in,

but I could not wrap my mouth around the words

to sing to you–

That is,

I usually have some way with words to get by,

but you gifted me a tied tongue to tell bad jokes.

Thank you for laughing!