“Do you remember – years ago – “ he said,
“We met up in some bookshop. I was with
my sister. She was quite impressed with you –
said you had a gentleness, an air
of understanding – and a lovely voice.”
“ That’s nice,” I said, yet knowing as I spoke
I had no memory of that day at all.
It wasn’t me they’d met.
The conversation ended, but he stayed,
my doppelganger – kindly, gentle, calm –
the kind of man I once hoped I’d become.
I look for him each morning in the mirror
and sometimes catch a glimpse,
but then he’s gone.