She Surrendered To Me

I did not peep, I gazed at the grasshopper.

I was uninhibited: I used to watch at girls who always thought they were too pretty, or I was no match for them. They kept their ego flying high, as high as a kite; what if the kite line broke? This was, anyway, a past story in which the girls turned their head away disdainfully.

This grasshopper must be a girl.

She did the same trick that failed to discourage me, just like in those olden days.

I followed her to wherever she went, so far not yet to the moon. She hopped, hopped, hopped and hopped, to get rid of me; I strode to get sticking to her.

Ten minutes was not long to me, it must be a few months to her. She surrendered to me finally.

This was what had happened, in this morning. I was in no hurry, yet everything was accomplished. Perfect.