He Asks, a poem by Bernadette O'Reilly at Spillwords.com

He Asks

He Asks

written by: Bernadette O’Reilly

 

I knew him to see
He did not know me
He asks
If I am going his way
I take his arm without delay
He asks
How old I am
I say twenty-three
You seem small
He comments
We stop in the street
He asks
If we could meet
I could hardly speak
He asks
Are you afraid
You should not be
His hand reaches for my hair
He asks
If it is fair
it is short
He said
Let it grow
Girls should have long hair
You know
He asks
May I touch your face
This I let him do
in that busy place
Thank you
He said
We went our separate ways

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