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It Is Her
26 July, 2007
Author: Dennis

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The image leaps from the screen,
pixelated, but unmistakable.
You remember those eyes,
a pale blue, almost gray.
The face, though worn,
is the same beautiful visage from your youth.
The smile, oh the smile.
It melts your heart as you smile in return.
The hair is a bit ashen now,
not like the golden mane you had known,
but the glow from her face still blinds you.
What could she be doing here?
This woman should not be in need of companionship.
Dare you make contact?
Would she remember the fat fool?
The one that could not speak.
The one that watched her with another.
The past is past, you tell yourself.
Think of something clever.
The words come hesitantly:
"I think I know you."
Oh, you are so clever.
You mention something you think she will recall.
A task, or a talk you had with this woman.
So long ago, but like yesterday to you.
The feelings come rapidly now.
The decades fade to nothing.
A teenager once again.
You mention a favorite treat.
No one else could know that.
You hit "send."
Now for the wait.
The expected response is slow to come.
..."I don't know you."

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