We

We see each other. Or rather, you see me look at you. I turn my head away abruptly. As if you wouldn’t notice. Hah.

If I wasn’t so self-conscious, so worried about your reaction or the reactions of ordinary people, I would just look at you. Just look at how you move. How you move your hand to arrange your wayward hair. Your fingers as you itch the nape of your neck.

I imagine your scent and want to see if I’m right.

But I will just walk on by and get back to my chair and do what I need to do and let this memory drift past into the ether.