*The Old Flame* If she only knew what I was missing
She's a tattoo. She fades and I hardly think of her, but if I see a blond-haired woman laughing in a clothing store, or if I see an orange sunset on the horizon, on a cool September evening, there she is, right with me, like she never left.
We had many perfect months before our departure. I see her at work. She says, "Hi", and makes small talk, because she was never in love. In her presence, I feel a smug triumph as I carefully feel nothing for her, in my heart. "We're finally done", I think to myself, barely standing my ground while she rants on about road raging maniacs on the interstate. We say our goodbyes like best friends would -- take real good care, warm hug, quick peck on the cheek. Poof!!! She's gone. Days pass, even months, perhaps years -- Life whirls. Then I walk outside and see a dazzling sunset in the cool, September sky. She's back...
"There is nothing we can't do, theoretically"...
