i walk past you
with your puppy-dog eyes
following her

it's funny how you become
a total stranger
when she's around

does she even know
we still talk?

are we an item?
are we a figment?
a work of fiction or
a smear of pigment?

does she really know you? . . .
does she really see you? . . .

i walk past you again
& again & again
& i'm convinced
i must be translucent...

a phantasm
a mere spectating specter
a presence
a ghost...

even after all this time
you still pull
cheap moves
on the one that might
care about you the most.