Dad’s lazy eye lost memory

Still waiting for the blind date to turn up,

not sure where she’s coming from but I get the impression it’s far away.

This airport hotel isn’t my idea of a great opener.

Don’t know what she is thinking, I guess its too late now,

give it a go.

Who would think this is a good idea                                                                                                   Maybe she’s here already

She could even be watching me

How do I manage to match image to her in the flesh?

Sat here mentally preparing myself, relax.

Feel like I am always waiting for somebody.

Try to remember! hold eye contact at all times no roaming around the room

Try to relax into it

Keep talking to her Keep the dialogue going

Eye contact eye contact

I need to quickly discover if there is any connection

A spark, chemistry anything across the divide

That thing that makes us want to keep seeing one another?

Still waiting….

Is waiting the time for remembering

Can you still remember stuck to the present?

Scanning the hotel bar,

staring deep into all the polished wood grain and plastic surfaces

trying to distinguish the reflection of an approaching women.

Look into the reflections,

don’t stare at her approaching its too confrontational

how long do I push my prepared anecdotes if

she’s not listening

just keep talking

Better than sitting with long silences

Scan the reflections

I need two eyes independent of one another

Scan all the surfaces

Look through all the faces in the room

Like my Dad’s lazy eye is he looking straight at me

or over my shoulder to the rest of the room

We are making a connection

I want to get up and leave

Two independent eyes simultaneously experiencing two points of view, the sphere-shaped mirrored lamp shades seem to contain all the space around us like giant crystal balls. Scanning the room like helicopter camera’s scouring the city streets far below for the run away joy-riders. Two conical eyes rotating incongruously scanning all the surfaces from the sides of the chameleons head, its leathery skin softly changing colour from the deep brown of the mahogany veneered table top to the red of the plastic armchair. Remembering, was it his Dad, the one with the wonky eye, that used to say if you put a chameleon on the black and yellow stripes of hazard tape they go into melt down and burst, explode into a bloody mess.

Oh shit! Shit is that her

in the galaxy red dress

where on earth did she get that from.

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