Blind Date
Heather May
Blind Date
February 15, 2017.
I walk in –
cautiously.
Try to get the lay of the land
without anyone noticing
how uncomfortable
I am.
I scan the corners of the room,
find an empty seat
and wait…
Fingers braiding
and unbraiding the frayed fringe
on the scarf someone left behind
Years ago –
Back before I needed
this date.
Back before
I knew
I was missing
part of myself
.
.
.
.
.
Finally…
Footsteps
A cleared throat
A voice
startling my fingers
from weaving
worst case scenarios.
.
.
Heather….May?
.
.
.
I follow –
Cautiously.
Footing unsure.
Torn between
hustling to keep up
and lingering where you
can’t find me.
You reach out to touch my elbow,
Then retract,
Remembering
we only just met.
Maybe February 15, 2017
is the wrong date to celebrate
after all.
Because for now
I can still see.