A chance meeting occurred
at a Christmas party where the
food was artfully placed around
the kitchen table and
the tree stood proudly in
the corner, lit up
in a twinkling grin.
She stood amongst a small crowd
of our closest friends,
chatting idly about the first man
on the moon, how out of this world
she thought that was.

(I watched her go outside,
onto the deck,
to smoke a cigar.
her lips forming an “o”
to banish the cloud from
her lungs).

And there she was before me,
a unique specimen of the likes
I’d never seen.
So collected, or so it seemed
(I was never too sure about the surface
of hearts, anyways).
I sat next to her, our arms brushed
against each other,
and a curious sensation swept through me
and I swear I saw it flash through her eyes
as well when I turned to face her.

She gave me her name.
I gave her mine.
And we shared nothing more
than a small smile.