He saw your bike chained to a tree right outside the library.
Pulled over to go inside to see if you might need a ride.
But his head started thinking.
His confidence shrinking.
He couldn't make up his mind.
Behold the king of indecision.
He chooses nothing with precision.
Ambivalent tight rope walker.
He's such a vague and shady talker.
But if he comes to you then you know his love is true.
Up and down the rows he looked.
Among the shelves of ancient books.
At last in fiction Q through R, found you cross-legged on the floor.
Eyes transfixed to a page.
You were in some other time and some other place.
He left a note on your handle bar before getting back in his car.
And drove straight into the setting sun.
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