A Glimpse

As we pass a dark window
my eyes acquire
a slim wrist sparkling with highlight
and long fingers
pointing downward like an arrow
over a hip.

Stolen from someone
who had been a human stranger,
once gathered and possessed, the technicality
of origin evaporates.

Figures of women
play through me
like movements in a symphony
they bring yearning like music,
recall an absence
that can't be filled.

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