I gaze at the bistro it is bright and dazzling
just like smog in London and its clear murkiness
blinds our eyes cracks our minds so we crawl
in our eyes and our minds towards one another
as the day is shattered our dry lips gulp down
the music of our drinks of your eyes so pretty
they are in front of us like a sea of maybes
the other one has left without leaving a tip
and the bartender stares at us asking us what
will you have ? for a spell I shall stick to drinking
the blue of your eyes and your gaze and your face
in that sea of maybes where we all swim with ease