What is it, I think about all the time? You
know what? Whatever it is, I want to place
it on a tray and drop it to the forest
floor, walk away into another blossoming
thought or two. I would have bet you and I
would make it past the onslaught. It makes me kind
of sad that I was so wrong. I took that picture
of you when you were absolutely sure
you weren't beautiful looking enough to be
photographed. Your smile proved otherwise, the small
tilt of your head, the blue color of your new
paisley scarf, your softly rippling reflection on
the green water next to the twin floating ducks.
Those ducks were wild and free, but I saw you as
the rarer creature. That was all the proof I
finally needed to see to believe that
magic is real. In a world of a billion
different people, I saw your shape, your size,
I felt your presence the most clearly of
any other. I didn't ask to see you
standing on your own like that. The universe
never seemed to listen to me any way.
It just happened, naturally, like a slowly
brightening sun through a gentle wind, waving
a great gaggle of green leafy hands at the
incoming day's sweet and innocent laughter.
Somehow I just wasn't surprised at all.
And then it started, erosions of the single
light shining in upon you. Blind trust in
a total stranger's grinning, fake flattery.
The person in that picture wearing silly
white puffy sleeves couldn't exist with the one
in the mirror. That's what kind of fool I am.