For Danny, In Explanation

Beautiful is the word I use to describe her,
though it is a terrible beauty,
romantic in a way I don't understand and colder
then my own frigid being, as she stands slumped
over in the corner hiding from me.
She thinks I cannot see her, that I am innocent,
unaware of the little glances thrown my way
but I know and I see her grace.
Her fingers tap, tap, tapping against the dark
wood make me smile. They are spidery in their movement
pulling sharply away from the table as if it were a fragile
antique before swooping back to again caress
the warm surface. Sometimes,
I wish she'd touch me that way.
She smiles back at me, a silly
Charlie Brown grin. You'd think I'd said
something clever from the look in her eye
and pretty clefts appear in her moon cheeks when i look
up to the sky. I laugh to break the moment,
I know these moments all too well, they frighten me
and when she changes the subject to help me
relax, I love her more then I did the minute
before, and I hand her the joint we are smoking on
and give her one of those pouts of mine and laugh again
as I turn to bask in celebration around us.
She disappears then, off to sleep in my bed I guess and I falter.
Two thousand miles she travelled just to be with me, to have me
lay down beside her and tell our secrets in the dark,
but the comfort I could receive from her is too real.
Instead, I drink a beer with my most talkative guest,
a creepy guy with a definite obsession with death, how fun,
and i can only crawl off to bed when I need to pass out
and hope she isn't angry with me
in the morning.