Often the events that define us, are seemingly small and perhaps unimportant, but they add the layers that make up our unsteady souls. This is the second poem in a hopefully ongoing series, where a lot is left to you dear reader. What happened before this moment i write about, what happens after, that is for you to decide and create, if you should wish.

she smelt of salt and vinegar crisps
she held my hand
i cannot remember if we danced to a slow tune
but she told me her name and i
gave her mine
a chance encounter at a country fair
the world was frantic, noisy, around us
i felt the body heat of other dancers
i held her gaze and she held mine
and she became
immortal

Later

i watched her standing bored
behind the counter of her fathers shop
the noise returned, this time dusty and scratch -worthy
i watched her face
and should have
just
gone in and talked to her

of course
so predictably
I did not

But my life was changed anyway