Cursing the moon and kicking the floor, I was waiting for you my dear, Saying to myself that I don't adore This odd quality of yours, ever. You came very late and smiled at me. The anger vanished from me. Clasping my hands, you looked at me. Something moved in me. Why is it that I always see A little girl in you? How are you able to console me, Like a mom who knew? Questions galore and I don't know How to answer them all. I don't have to, dear, for now I still await your call.