might, maybe

Quiet concern and
questions begging for
honest answers,
talks meandering into
hours late,
and lingering smiles later,
I begin to see what this
might be...

Not daring to hold my breath
or hope I am wrong or right,
I continue on,
looking for some clue to light the way...

Could it really be
you don't think
I am broken?
Damaged?
Could it be
you've not dared
to hope,
as I have...?

Possibility grows awkward
here
lanky and fumbling,
not quite knowing
what to do
with itself...

I smile on and dream
of what might be...
Dream, not ever
really believing
that it might...

After all,
I've been wrong
so many times
before...