I: Allegro Scherzando

in the stalls i was sitting with her (not she) while she (not her) sat high in the gods with a fairly mid-looking boy, despite which she kept looking at me through movements iv and v and though i saw her see me, never did i see her see me see her, and certainly she did not see me see her see me, so it seemed i was safe from revealing my cards. when at long last the concert ended, the herd shuffling sheepishly out of the hall, i looked up and saw amidst the flock her gaze at me once more. again i pretended not to see but this time she gave a wave, most flirtatious, most salacious, and i thought O what a sight! O how divine! and i was filled with the overwhelming satisfaction of ignoring her one final time. as for her (not she) next to whom i’d been sitting and to whom i’d paid little-to-no attention, it occurred to me that i ought to start listening to her opinions on the symphony we’d just heard.

II: Adagio

[REDACTED]

III: Tarentella

I’d noticed her outside but only when she stepped in the sushi bar to pay did I consider her a glimpse at that inverted jet hair considered her an exquisite exchange of mirrorbound glances considered her when you know you know and I knew that I knew and I knew I’d regret what I’d be too weak to do so when she left I leapt despite a scowl from the other and there borne away by her friends she turned face and heart and when she smiled my knees were like the rippling reflections of knees in the puddle below I’d have run I’d have asked her her name and she’d have replied ‘Aurelia’ ‘Valeria’ or something beyond words but for my pathetic statuette feet carved in the threshold of the door forever that future will remain sealed conditionally perfect and even today I reflect on the could have beens the would have beens and the sweet et ceteras that should have been  ∎

Words by Anonymous. Art by Lillian Tagg.