What if?

Sited waiting for my date,

Spiked chills,

Spine in my veins.

I look—is it him?

What if he’s old?

What if—

My head is with

Lots of what ifs.

Not sure of his nationality,

But in his pic

He’s handsome as hell.

But wait a minute,

What if it’s a catfish?

​The bus stops

And I ask, is it him?

Then a car—

A man walks out.

Was the lady

His chauffeur?

So what if

He is married?

But the guy is old,

So I make a hiss.

It’s not him,

Gott sei Dank.

He calls,

He will be late,

So he ain’t German.

So I wait.

Then what if

He speaks a lot?

What if he’s unimpressive,

Or full of impulse?

It’s 20 min,

Should I go back?

Maybe it’s karma—

Yesterday I made

A gentleman travel 59 km,

Only to be stood up

'Cause I was scared.

​So what if he’s short?

What if he’s impolite,

Or an old buddy playing young?

What if we don’t like each other?

What if he asks

What I can’t accommodate?

​I hear some laughters

And chatters,

But my mind

Is devoured from what ifs.

What if he wants to try

Some chocolate?

What if he is for fun?

What if?

Just lots of what ifs.

​So I puddle,

Tiptoe up down.