Over nearer troubled waters I'd like to apologize:

For confusing folks with banjos and mandolins singing through their noses with soul music.
For letting their music affect my mood swings during a strange, painful week.
For wanting a hug at the wrong time and the wrong place.
For feeling my warm memory from across the tiny bay turn to bitterness and pain.
For tuning into such a silly puppy and a creep.
For staring deep into the sky that we once knew was empty except for communications satellites, knowing that we once drank that same sky and didn't pay it the slightest consideration.
For feeling like Cynthia Lennon when she knew that the train had left the station without her.
For confusing the act of fleeing speechless in the dark with acts of decency and decorum.
For having so few dreams left and none that weren't centered around you. For even building my contingency plans around you.
For feeling the full sadness of a lonely moon on a sleepless night and wanting to cry into the sleeping bag.
For wandering around worrying about you until the mudnesters started chirping to further exasperate my buzzing head.
For all the strange thought that I had about you, believing that your fantasies might come true.
For forgetting how our infrequently our fantasies ever come true.
For not being thankful for the few that do come true.
For not being thankful for the fantasies that don't come true yet replenish our dreams.
For wishing that I was your fantasy.
For spying on you at a distance and seeing things that I hadn't noticed before and only then realizing how difficult life must be for you these days.
For not knowing these things that I could have known about you.
For being too stupid to ask.
For enjoying watching your skirt blow in the sunny breeze.
For wondering, will these people ever have the slightest idea how beautiful and talented you can be?