At 28

it seems I get by on more luck than my sense, I shimmy and slip by on pure full chance, At turns charmed and crushed a girl knows Romance, coffee,red wine,books, business, Service and solitude, I count as a daylight virtue and muted, evening the inventory of Absense , sometimes I want to fall in Love, sometimes I don't care if I will marry, But this is no sorry spinster story, just the Way days string together a life,