2 PM

Monsieur,

across the way, 

don't you know the things to say?

That my eyes luster like sunlight through hot cider,

Or that my moles are stars

On my body, the constellation. 

Or that my smile makes your afternoon. 

So tell me, 

Monsieur,

do you not know?

That I have loved you from afar, 

that you have left my heart ajar. 

Or do you know, 

Monsieur, 

and is it simply a no?