On Seeing George Clooney Across a Crowded Room

The ionic air
        was charged and crackling,
the room was stifling.

Like a television ad gone wrong
they ran, slow motion,
to  each other’s arms.

Fate or misdirection
left them empty handed,
him there           her here,

the throng of grape and brie
between them.
There never was hello

much less goodbye,
but, my,
the air was crackling.

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