Hesitation keeps me from the love zoo I watch tonight, as I do most every night. I am enthralled by the arrangement before me; it's the regular kid-in-the-candystore effect (the differences are I'm not really a kid anymore and these are far more important than any candy I've come across). So many pretty sights, I want to reach out. Do they bite?

I cannot touch them yet. Instead, I spend my time scratching away at my creation--a plate glass window, behind which I envision them to need the reflection I run from. Emotionally distraught, I fall down on my knees before them. I survey and make a tentative selection.

Alas, she too stands behind the barrier unaware. I know what the mental block is. Made from the pressure of a cheap material, namely of failed confidence. This plentiful substance is see-through, but I blind myself.

Time continues on its way and still I eat alone. For this wrinkled heart, depression replaced time. I gaze at them. They love me, they love me not. I've got to crash through 'cause it's just too hard to climb. I only wait for....nothing, really. Just seem to wait until I feel drained. Like now. Or then.

Yet, as though I were important, she stands poised as my savior, drawing closer to the elusive kiss. And with the wall no longer present, I stare at her and I find myself.