She’s seated before a window, sun highlighting shiny diamonds in her hair.
Her fingers are flamingoes on her smart phone, a wily dance sped up to double speed, of muscle memory and familiar keys.
Lips as full as pillows that I long to cushion with my own, and the dress she wears hugs contours of which I am so painfully aware.
Her eyes escape to velvet shores and silken sheets upon the beach, and I must look away too soon, lest she see me here.
Scant feet separate us and small talk fills the space between, all luscious notes and plosives, siren tones and sibilants, all lead to hidden depths unseen.
And so I say my goodbyes of which she’s painfully unaware, dragging feet and head hung low as I make my way back home, and relive those few minutes that we were together there.