hinged existence

your existence is questionable

until i stand nonchalantly

watching people wander

i'm not looking at them, but through them

looking for someone

a familiar face breaking through the sea

of strange combinations of eyes and noses

i'm minding my own business entirely

until someone stops in front of me

for just a moment - perhaps to meet someone

or to read a flyer posted along the street

i turn my head and my eyes are fixed

trapped

imprisoned

the hapless passer-by has paused

and i see a slender upper arm

expanding gracefully into the elbow

the elbow is youthful but enhances the effect

of arms with little more than bone

slight sinew

some would call it ungainly

that large joint which tapers into a slim forearm

but i have a tactile response

i remember when you sat across from me

doodling and dancing around the conversation

as i stared at your elbow connected to your wrist

to your hand that held the pen

the special pen you had to stop and buy

making you late for our meeting

i hear you babbling through trivialities

with an ironic eloquence

as you sketch with eyes turned down

then as i look up from your beautiful elbow

you stare into my eyes

daring me to say what i really feel

but the time for that has passed

i met your stare then glanced back at your sketch book

changing the subject with little more than a glance

back to your fingers and hand

along the slight hairs of your forearm

and back to that joint which has captured me

it reminds me over other sensations

i long to reach out and rest my hand on it

to stop the passing of time

suddenly you exist again

even after my familiar face breaks through the crowd

long after the passer-by passes on

the original moment lingers

as if it happened only today

like a lucid dream i welcome it

savor it

then let it slide back 

to be re-shelved in your section

covered with faux cobwebs