at the side of her face/foreign light |
I never hated you, probably never will
though you scared me once; your own is so justified.
I hope it has faded.
The street was bright in the sunlight and
the curtains of the open house – red – were far from opaque so I was able to
hide.
And reflect.
That.
Your dress had been red.
The first time.
You walked along the street freely, unaware
of what might happen next and your surprise at seeing your old friends here in
this street played in your eyes; you could not hide it when you walked inside.
None of this was intended.
But I had already heard your voice outside.
I smiled.
I tried to put welcome, sorry, what can one
do, good to see you, another sorry and wow into that smile; you probably saw
rabid dog.
Or fool.
So I whispered that I could leave; only you
could hear.
You whispered back.
It sounded clear.
But.
Really?
You didn’t want me to?
So we sat.
I, still folded against the curtain so that
you knew that I would have let you continue past, leaning forward probably
saying that I was glad you chose to stop.
You looked well.
Your eyes still smiling their surprise, but
brimming also with something else.
Exciting.
I can not ask for forgiveness too.
ab/83
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