precise positions, somehow
still wavering,
wading.
i'm still stuck between musings,
illusions & truth. for the shortest time,
you were the one. just gorgeous,
lovely, everything. even though
i barely heard you speak,
just thank you.
it sounds as though the end
of some excessive narrative,
a cinematic romance that
ended a bittersweet tragedy.
& it seems rather obvious, now
in the tide of clarity, that we
were perfect strangers from
start to finish.
& he's got the sweetest smile from
behind the counter, offering me cake
in hurried whispers. how do i begin?
forget about eyes & concentrate on footpaths
& he's got the sweetest grin.
& by the kitchen there's a face i've met before,
seeming to be the counterpoint among
this chaos, this clutter we are drowning in.
this face doesn't know me at all
but here, during a late night rendezvous
with styrofoam cups & devices & plans that lead everywhere,
that face is an anchor.