he remembers
when my hair was long
a decades-old flirtation
not personal
if it ever was
with him
I remember
that pale, waxy skin
like marble
the feel
of boy-men muscles
along limbs
as I struggle
to catch slurred words
in a noisy pub
even though I’m sober now
he’s invading my space
after 25 years
of long-forgotten…
suddenly
confronted with
being seen
in a way I haven’t been
for ages
is it good or ill
to bathe
in that male gaze
again
I am, am I?
a person now
or then
how to define
myself
hard-up against that
strange
living-memory thing
clairevetica 