12:04 am . thrills
i am watching you through
the windows of the cafe,
recognised only by a neck
exposed, interupted by
the ((always)) black
fabric of your shirt.

you are conversing with a bohemian
or pseudo-intellectual of some sort.
& i am wondering a string of things
each meaningless, but they are
filling me to the brim.

then as i have lunch
with the mistress
of all elocution,
you wander in & out,
talking on your phone &
giving me steady glances
that come unstuck
when my eyes
match yours.

nostalgia . uncertainty