Came across
a man who walked
in shadow.
Didn’t know his skin,
but I could see within
his eyes,
which matched Heaven.
Even in the dark
he seemed to glow,
his very existence
ephemeral,
as if he were here,
but superimposed
into this world
from somewhere else.
He never made a move
at noon,
nor did he utter a word
at Happy Hour.
He stayed,
always in the same place,
as if the purpose
of his existence
was just to exist
as an example
to the rest of us,
who make
a mockery of existence.
It was a Thursday,
in springtime.
I sat down to have a drink
and looked
at the mirror behind the bar.
Dark corner seat,
his favorite haunts
and there he was
watching me,
watching everyone.
I focused on my hands.
I didn’t understand,
but some part of me
yearned to be understood
and that’s the part
I was trying to kill
with alcohol.
I glanced back up
and he smiled at me,
his eyes trying to drag me in,
like gravity.
I blinked and he was gone,
and so was the man at the bar.
A hollow husk
of a broken being,
who sat,
staring at me in the mirror.
The one
who didn’t really exist.
HG – 2022
