An old Flame

I see him there across the room and I see that he still wears that terrible jacket. I look away and smile too widely and laugh too loudly to no-one in particular and hope he notices me but wish he won’t. Heart pounds louder than the jazz and hot blood in my ears and my legs liquefy. And then I order another drink and the gentleman down the bar tips his hat at me and the waiter winks at me and I scrawl a thank-you on the back of an eftpos receipt and I walk away with a Manhattan.
I brush past someone else and I feel a look of heat after me as I swim through The Party.
I sashay and I flirt and I twirl and I dance and I play.
But he is still there across the room.I love that terrible jacket.