In The Time Between

Last night there was a stranger in my life. Intimately close, familiar only in proximity, and shockingly alien. Who are you?

His eyes were sky blue, crinkled around the edges. This is what I know of him. The rest is marginalia. I listened, and laughed (at myself, at us, at this), but remained immobile. I heard he was this and that, wanted such and such, and etcetera. But it was his eyes I knew. Depth too close, faux-inviting, teetering on the edge of wanting? to fall in.

There is last night and there is now. The Now is full of me and mine: schedules, appointments, workworkwork, and the noisey-yet-quiet only my apartment offers. It is full of plans, and tomorrow, and the hum of my rhythmic life. It is “The Me”. And The Now is punctuated with solicitous reminders of… well, whatever the hell that was. Scraps of evening I’m not sure I was quite present for.

Order is restored with the making of my bed.