The thief

All week I wait
for a glimpse of those eyes.
They do not know the madness
that lives in me.
Hidden behind the civil smile,
we will talk for a while
of future plans and possiblities
While a scheming fuguitive on the run
breaks into the room in her heart,
but empty handed, departs.

Another week I wait....
Time flies fast,
Days burn in anticipation in the sun
and wither like dry flowers in the night.
The voices of reason have long since drowned
Drunk in the gaze of those eyes.