:ode to a pl girl:

for some reason when the night deepens
and half the world is asleep around you
the mind uncoils itself far and deep
into deep pathways of memory to retrieve
an old series of happenings
a collage of images burned within..

it begins with a girl in a pinafore
a pl one to be precise amidst many others
one that stood out and spoke to me
a voice which resonated with some latent part of me
and so it was a picture of a crowd
a picture of a girl among the crowd

a photograph on the bench i almost took
a girl in pl dress coming down from the stairs
three words and a dangerous smile
a picture of amelie's grin

next is the sound of a missing bell
an almost imperceptible flick of the wrist
followed by the sweet tinkling only imagined
two pl girls side by side and laugh
a picture of smiles and a missing bell

from afar high up under a cusp
stands a pl girl looking lost and far
going close i notice it is not her who is lost
but i who eyes have looked too close
the focus is lost and places exchanged
a picture from afar and the lost photographer

a medusa's eyes turns me into rigid stone
a gaze of forcing recognition held
until the spell is weakly broken with a wave
a nod and a restoring smile
as she boards the bus to infinity

how impossible to recognize the pl dress
from the approaching crowd
petrifies me to stone holding
a locked look of false unrecognition
returned by a gaze of forced recognition
a picture of deep infatuation