Still She Stared…

Photo by fotografierende on

Our eyes locked and we held a gaze, hers bore into mine.

Seconds elapsed, I looked away, it was ten to nine.

I looked again in her direction to see if it could be,

paranoia or imagination, yet still, she stared at me…

Music filled the crowded room, feet tapped against the floor, then suddenly my memory zoomed, I’d seen that face before!

Our paths had crossed but where, but when? My mind began to search.

Perhaps at college, through a friend, a wedding, or at church.

People blocked most of my view, scents circled in the air.

But through a gap, I managed to catch her lingering stare.

Admiration? Curiosity? Spite? Or could it be, that she saw someone that she knew familiar in me?

I looked again with half a smile and she returned my gesture.

My curiosity urged me to make my way towards her.

At five to nine I made my move, simultaneously she came towards me too.

As I held out my hand to greet her, my fingers pressed against the mirror.

And still, I stared…

After one too many gins and tonics!

I wrote this poem many years ago. It was inspired by a friend of mine who told me that this had actually happened to him, and he also told me that he totally fancied himself in the mirror!

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