She wears black everyday
Doesn’t matter if it's
Sunshine or rain
Each time she passes
Her perfume tingles
My nose
Wish I can say it’s chemistry
It’s likely allergies
Last week
We took the same elevator
I assume she's from my city
Although her black jacket
Appeared too heavy
(For the weather)
When her hand casually touched mine
It was familiar
We didn’t speak
Just a nod of agreement
Floor seven for the evening
Actually for now it’s
Where I call home
An over decorated condo
I frequent alone
Too nervous to look back to see
Which door she unlocked
It doesn’t matter
Tomorrow she will have forgot
Our short encounter
Perfect strangers
Separated by doors
I’m inquisitive
She’s allured
A seemingly compatible match
I’m prepared to approach her
This time I’ll strike up a conversation
Throw in some
Intrigue and charisma
Then I see her
In my peripheral vision
She has a woman on her arm
Her charm
Saturates the room
The way her perfume
Did before
We exchange looks as she passes
Our hands gently brush again
A woman like her
Is far too calculated
For accidents
You tell me
Was she sending hints
I replay the scene
While laying in bed
There’s no sheep to count
So…
I pull at the loose blanket thread
Letting out a slow sigh of regret
Optimistic, I laugh to myself
Reciting the old words
She loves me
She loves me not
I turn over in bed
With my oversized pillow tucked
About ready to doze off
A few minutes later
I hear a knock…..
Dez Sevena