escort diary® of Louella York: A breathe in the mirror

A
I saw you once—
leaning against the café window,
Lost in thought,
Fingers tracing a circle on your cup
as if conjuring something
just out of reach.
You didn’t see me,
but for a moment
the world narrowed
to your breath
Fogging the glass between us.

And I imagine your voice
like honey
steeped in smoke,
your name
like something I’d whispered
In another life.
We never spoke.
But I carried you home
like a song I couldn’t place,
a story I might’ve dreamed.
Love didn’t blossom—
it hovered,
A breath on a mirror:real,
but already fading.

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