Haze

Lights are dimmed. Spot’s on you. My heart is drowned out by the applause of the crowd. How could there be someone beautiful as you? You tick off all the boxes. But my list can never be a claim to ownership.

This is your world. You and the crowd. But somehow, you have never succumbed to the limelight. I watched you comb through people who grab you by hand for a photo, or a hug, a quick huddle – or you! I smiled at the thought that I have never had a photo with you. That was a conscious decision – to never ask. Maybe I am prideful. But I want moments with you to be a haze – gone when the hall has emptied. And they have been. Every time.

Finally, you approach me with a hearty laugh. About what, I don’t know. We have content ourselves with laughing and starting conversations in the middle of a story until someone grabs you again – for a photo, a hug, a quick huddle –  for you! 

My moments with you are always without conclusion. And the same goes for how I feel about you – at a halt until I see you again. You with the lights on, me in the crowd.