Across an off-white cloth draped table;
Head tilted, barely angled towards the floor,
she looks to me, unblinkingly,
with those twin orbs containing scoops of a clear autumn sky
still glistening from last night's downpour.

Her hands are clasped together in her lap -
Mine, wrapped around a chipped glass mug,
though only an elusive drop of coffee remains.

She reaches out over the table with a slender, pale arm
(beckoning my own - similar, yet scarred,)
to embrace in a steady grasp, my hand,
shaking unbidden,
shaking beyond control.

I fix my eyes to the mundane, gray walls,
adorned only with a simple, rounded mirror
reflecting the table before me
(unburdened, save for a once filled mug)
and an abandoned chair across from two blue eyes
I cannot bring myself to meet.

I let go.

(A/N: I should know who I am by now. (OP 07-17-07))