Our eyes lock, but nothing is pursued. No chances are taken, no longings explored. We both have been here before. We know how this may end, how things most likely will unfold. So, we don’t say hi or have an awkward conversation about the weather. I will not invite you to an art expose. We will not have dinner together. You will not tell me your deepest secrets. And in the darkness of the night, we will not speak a language with our bodies that make our angels blush. We will lower our gazes. And after a fleeting moment of regret, we both will continue on our path of what is, not what could be.