i met her by chance at the hellenic
lectures. enchanted, i watched her
taking notes with her swan fountain
pen, occasionally brushing back a lock
of hair that escaped from her silver
sparrow barrette and fell over her eye.
after a while, she noticed my longing
glances and she smiled back.
now, after all these years together,
i have to finally accept that while being
as beautiful as the marble she is made of,
she is just as cold.