Love letter # 687
Was that you in the corner of the room? Is that why you kept looking across, your eyes seeming to invite connection?
I rarely visit past haunts. They hold no attraction. Life moves in different orbits these days. Sometimes a few years will pass between returns. Each time the ghosts seem paler, the echoes hollowed out a little more, the old loves older still. Like the man in the mirror. Time rendering him less like he imagines himself.
Who are these ancient lovers now? Not the darlings of erstwhile desire. Not the lovely dreamers of memorial nocturne. They departed moons ago, woken by the engine of fast passing days.
Tonight, we dined at different tables, glancing across the canyon of silence, not quite recognising the shape of ourselves.
Or did we? Was she just an outline of you? Was it me…or the one who has come to replace me?
You looked. Looked again. Looked away. I tried in vain to find you as I was leaving, but she did not seem like you, and I knew I wasn’t the one you were looking for.