She would catch her reflection
In the dark windows
On late evenings
And the spirit looking back at her
Would give a half smile and ask
‘What are you looking for?’

And there would be an almost silence,
Except the sounds of the coming night
The crickets
Rehearsing for their eternal concert
The waves sighing and stuttering
The boats calling ”goodnight
Sleep tight” to each other.

That calm
That Serenity
That only artists really search for.
Would stretch and yawn
Then be broken
By the girl saying aloud to her reflection

‘I think
I am looking for love.’

The evening would catch its breath

The girl would continue

‘I don’t even know if I believe in love
Certainly not the kind of love
I see on those silly shows
That blast in full colour
From my friends’ rooms
And certainly not the kind of love
That is written in neat lines
In the paperback books
That my parents read.’

‘So none of those things

Maybe all of those things’

 And the evening would pick up its endless beautiful chatter

The reflection would fade as the girl turned off the lights

 And then went back into her crowded world.