Across the Bar
Time slows, two find
each other, eye to eye.
the whole room lost to a gaze.
We played tag,
you’re it.
And I found my glances much like legs:
unable to run that fast.
It was denial of everything else,
the kind of thing a wave would ruin;
or perhaps an embrace,
in that old adage.
My fingers went to to pick up my drink,
afraid to be unsupervised.
when I looked back up for my friend,
and her playful eyes,
I found the room again.
This was just one of those things that I write everyone once in a while. I think it’s that I become more perceptive to these goings-on when I drink. Imagine me drinking at happy hour!