
Dear Ankh,
Since we rubbed feet under the table at that dinner, I haven’t slept much,
Thoughts of you ceaselessly torment me,
Images of you won’t give mine mind any calm,
Possibly it was a fleeting instant,
Perhaps the booze fogged up our judgment,
Or maybe it simply was what it was,
A moment,OUR moment
I don’t know what to think, or what to make of it,
I just pray you have trouble getting shuteye too.
Ever yours,
Xx.