Asterisk in the Appendix

She begins the game again, words thrown at random,
Misuse of the ellipsis and misplaced x’s pervade what I read,
More confusion, more uncertainty, more attempts at nothing,
The ugly flower blossoming from a sadly sown seed.

I jump around with the originals, the first time in a blue moon,
Thoughts dominated by the safety of security not even assured,
Fog falls and clouds my sight, but the haze was already in my eyes,
Now streams and visions have united and concurred.

She hides behind typed writing, hiding emotional expressions,
No way of telling through glance or tone her true intentions,
An elaborate guessing game played out to our detriment,
Fear of finding her heart’s abyss through her own interventions.

I relapse and return to a topic now cold on my shoulder,
Sickening those who have to hear the tale retold at every new stage,
The conclusion was written on the twenty-ninth day of a January past,
Yet asterisks are marked in an appendix as we age.

She attempts to play my notes, and succeeds in striking a chord.
I have played the extra wheel long enough; now it’s time to step forward.