She sits alone, waiting for suggestions

He’s so nervous, avoiding all the questions

His lips are dry, his heart is gently pounding

Don’t you just know exactly what they’re thinking?

When I’m good, I’m very good.

If only there was a sign, any little sign, to let me know how you feel about me, like a gentle rain or a pretty song.

Apollo whipping up a symphony

Is that a deluge or are you just happy to see me?

By Diana Gruber

Mathematician, game developer, and statue painter

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