To fall in love with an idea
Was ridiculous, but that was
Teenage me. All it took was
Passing her a few times on
A crowded dance floor.

Three months later, to the day,
There she was again, and
There I was, transfixed, awestruck,
In her unwitting thrall again.

How did I not realise that
She was not just a pretty face
I noticed? How did my heart not
Know what had happened to it?

Perhaps I believed that sort of
Absurdity was behind me; that
Adulthood in law had somehow
Brought with it maturity in soul.
To grow up is to realise how
Immature we really were.

My denial was my undoing:
I hid from myself my desire
To overcome fear and inertia,
And when she reentered my life,
Somehow as almost a friend,
It was already too late.

I never knew whether she
Remembered the me that could
Not take his eyes away from her,
Just as I never knew whether
She heard my parting words,
Whispered over the din of
Some strangers’ good times.

All I have are memories of
That face I never missed
In a crowd, and regret that
I did not find my voice
When I had so much to say.

09/17/2012

Posted on 10/02/2012
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince