don’t say that

I sat next to her at a large table
with an odd number of chairs.
The band was wrapping up cords
and putting instruments in cases.
Her husband volunteered himself
to go and gather their coats.

The rest of the group began
to dissolve into pairs too and I
killed time by pretending I had
messages on my telephone.

She looked up from the bottom
of her glass and sat staring in
to me like I had left my
loneliness unzipped. She sighed.
“It could have been you.”

It was the only time she’d
ever said that out loud.

The whole way home I wrung my
cold fingers and thought about why
the idea appealed to me so much
more now than it did back then.
Everything boils down to fear.