I see you every few months.
A coffee shop,
walking around the lake,
once at a subversive craft fair
at Christmas
on the other side of town.
You always wear a ponytail
and flat shoes.
Your lipstick is perfect
and you never smile.
I don’t know your name
but it is probably Miranda
though it doesn’t matter
because we will never meet.
It’s not a hunch;
it’s a resolution.
You orbit my life
in your quiet way,
and it reminds me of a game I used to play as a kid
when my mom took me out for dinner.
Spot the guardian angel.
There was always one mysterious diner
a few tables over.
They didn’t fool me,
it was so obvious they were on a mission
with my name all over it.
I’m on to you too, Miranda,
but it’s our little secret
and I know the rules.
Pretend like you’re just a stranger
I keep bumping into
as if it isn’t the most destined
magical thing.