Sitting in ink and waiting for her call.
Wondering if she plans to show at all.
Mind focused on the things presently at hand.
I think thirty minutes is all I can stand.
Seven minutes later she showed, covered in tats.
We sat at talked and time moved fast.
When I walked her to her car we shared stories and smoked.
This blind date turned out better than I had hoped...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem