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  • In a black dress with no back to speak of,
    a woman sits with a menu in her hand.
    A mirror not far away, reflects her blond hair.
    Reflected again, it echoes across the room
    to a mirror near a table of polished walnut.
    A tall, lanky man waits for a glass of wine.
    As he does, he lifts his lip just so, wondering
    while he looks at the mirror on the wall.

    The woman taps her own lip with a long nail,
    as though she has a secret she’d like to share
    but no one at all to share that secret with.
    Her fingers brush the thin strap of her dress,
    enjoying the soft feel of satin.
    Taking a sip of her cocktail, she looks up
    only to see a man staring through a mirror,
    the same one that shows an image of herself.

    She blushes and then looks down, counting to ten slowly.
    It’s a decent amount of time to be coy, she whispers.
    She orders her food and looks up only to find him gone.
    Chiding herself for being too shy, the woman sighs,
    knowing it will be another night alone.

    She hums a quiet melody as she eyes a picture,
    one she’s carried for what seems like forever and a day.
    It’s just a teenage boy, with ears he hasn’t grown into
    and a smile that made her heart beat a little faster.
    One date and he was gone.
    Apparently his parents didn’t like the winter weather.
    Too bad she thinks as she continues to hum her little tune.
    Their connection had be wild and somehow wonderful,
    to say the least.

    A gust of breath comes from somewhere inside,
    while she wonders why she’s here instead of home;
    with a good book and her cat, purring in her ear.
    She shakes her head and as she does she sees a shadow.
    Oh my, she thinks, the waiter’s here with my food.
    Her eyes look up to see a man, dark eyed,
    with what she’d call a blade of a nose.
    Suddenly she’s awed.

    “Hello,” he says as if to charm her.
    And she, she can’t take her eyes away.
    She cocks her head and stares as her smile widens.
    “It’s you,” she says, amazed he doesn’t know her.
    He looks at her a little strangely as he raises just one brow.
    She pulls the picture out and says again,
    “It’s you, and this is you when you were younger.”

    “Oh my God,” he says as he takes a seat,
    “do you know how long….”
    She finishes his sentence for him,
    “how long I’ve waited? I’ve waited too,”
    she says as a lone tear falls as if unbidden.
    “Yes,” he answers as he bends toward her,
    “that’s exactly what I was going to say to you.”
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