The girl on the plane
knows my name, my face,
and I know her face as well,
but I cannot place it in this context:
her face buried in a vampire novel
without saying a word to me.
I run through the list
of all the places in town
I frequent, but her face
doesn't fit into any of them.
Pride and decorum mean
I dare not ask,
so I spend 27 hours
searching my memory
until I unwittingly
remember the receptionist.
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