You remember that time when we’d shortly met and
we were sitting in that bar?
You remember how you’d had your eye on that guy?
The young, handsome, cool dood,
propping up the bar.
I said ‘what, the one with the glasses?’
you said ‘no, not that one’ with a disparaging, huh? tone, ‘the one
behind him’ your eyes going off in directions – differing ...
you remember when you’d pretended to go to the Ladies
but admitted, on your retrurn, that you’d slipped
your business card in his back pocket ...
you remember when, minutes away, your phone
buzzed and you ran off to answer it,
faster than a hart on heat,
trailing a smile and a waft of expectancy ...
you remember how you’d sent me
a txt earlier about living in the moment,
about feeling and following our desires ...
‘our wishes for others are wishes for ourselves’,
I’d thought, and as I wondered what transaction
of souls was happening behind my unturned,
you came back ... deed done? ...
who could say? ... who should ask?
bizarre, old thing love ... that, for me,
was my most extreme moment ...
of love ... why? ... i don’t know ... maybe,
I’d been trusted so, so that something
simple, so simple, had been freely shared