July 2005 – Berkeley

All these months I’ve been buried in books
And I barely managed to steal a look at you
But I know you feel the same.

Evening trappings of the trite
Another social gathering
Seemingly light
But it’s not quite

If I could I would believe
In simple dreams and simple speak
I know…
Every year my love grows deep and so does my hate
I’m losing my restraint.

Ties and cocktails, legal briefs
And brief conversations
To not detract from exams
And I do not understand.

I’ll escape the affair for a seat by the fountain
I am an aging ancient man
And it’s so long since I laughed.

But I’ve heard tell you’ve lived harder things
Like death and depth and meaning
We need to connect
While we’ve still a few years left.

In these times we must believe
In simple dreams and simple speak
I know…
I see your anger, undeserved
And you need to talk, but cannot speak a word.

So when I ask you how you are
Please do not
Don’t tell me that you’re fine.
I want to hear more.

All these months I’ve been buried in books
And I barely managed to steal a look at you
But I know you feel the same.