Saturday, 23 June 2018

Enigma in the Backstreet



Dark are the orbs of those eyes
Little hints, then nothing
‘Try not to think about it’, is how the conversation ends
Then turn your back on me.

Sizing each other up
Unstable interactions, smiles and then blank
Hiding knowledge in poker faces
But the past always finds a way to the surface

Exotic names and misunderstood smiles
Self conscious enigma of forced silences
When is it too much effort
When is it time to drive off

Do I know you?
What do we seek?
In being mindful, the missing memories
Incomprehension of what seemed once well known.

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