I could see her glancing at me behind lowered eyes
It was either me,
Or the book.
Suddenly she turned, the candle flame mirrored in her pupils
Her face was flushed by nervousness
Or maybe drink.
She liked literature she said
But I think she also liked my accent
She was wild
I was wild
No time for the corperate world although that's where we both existed
Reading, travelling, red hair
We liked the same things
So
I never messaged her back