A Relief

I sat under a painting
In a stranger's house in Omaha.
Other guests stared, some whispered,
Some were obvious-
Some, oblivious.
I faced forward, not knowing if I had
Made some mistake.
It wasn't until leaving, I saw that the painting
Over the chair
Could have been of me and some
Striking woman. I recall the feeling of love,
At this gift from my world, at the beautiful girl,
At that incredible convergence, yet
It has had some consequences.
I now look for us in old photographs,
And feel perverted, as I twist the memories of
Family and dear companions into what I
Stupidly hope may be some prophesy.
I look for her in
My life, in negative space, though I know
That by the irony of the universe, if she is
A living thing, she will only step into the frame
Once I have forgotten completely.
If I forget well, we may be happy.