.
.
I saw you
.
You were making that face in the mirror – the one where you pucker your lips and see if it’s cute
Waiting to cross at the light – did you know your shoes were too big for your feet
I saw you down the street – you had the most beautiful hair
I saw your eyes dart around while your dog shat on the lawn
I saw the back of your head – it was warm and inviting in the afternoon sun
I saw you
Empty the cream at the coffee shop and not bother to tell the barrista
because you emptied it into a water bottle in your coat’s deep pocket
I saw you rake leaves and watch from around the corner as kids jumped in
I saw you walk your evening laps around the block tapping your cane on aging cracks –
we say hello if the dark hasn’t blinded us
I saw you
Reach for his hand, look up into his eyes over the rim of your coffee
I saw you sitting in the back of the library reading Macleans
I saw you jaywalk nonchalantly, giving the driver the finger as if he owed you some right
I saw you
The younger you, the child you were. He shows up in your face when the light comes into your eyes.
I’m always amazed at how I can see that.
I saw you peaking up over the books and from the tins of vegetables, suspicious and watching
I saw you in clothes that melted to you like you were born to wear them
I saw you walking – I liked the way your body moved
I saw you shake your finger, pick your nose, hike your pants,
I saw you walk into me while you were clicking out important part-words – I saw you from a block away and I just let you do it. I wanted to think it might make a difference.
In case you ever thought nobody noticed…
I’m not the only one.
I saw you.
.
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