Reflections of One's Self

I don’t understand what’s going on.

But something is not right.

I discovered her tonight. Just stopped and sat and stared. And when I tried to move closer, she was gone.

I looked in the closet. Nothing. In the kitchen too. And my heart grows eager with anticipation and hope.

And I can see you.
But cannot touch you,
Smell you.

Childish pastimes of yesterday, the red, the blue….who cares.

I beat with delight and she returns the invitation. Mine stops with a question and if we were one, hers does too.

Start.
Stop.
Repeat.

She is beautiful. Botero’s muse. And she looks at me as if she has known me from the womb, sees right into the depths of my longing.

I resume my position.
sitting
watching

waiting