Wildfires

But that, my naïve confidants, is another story.
As I applied make up to hide
The girl with no substance, no beauty,
The real me emerged like a
phoenix
from
the
flames.

This girl was a living, breathing triple threat.
Beauty, knowledge, power.
She exuded confidence
That even money couldn’t buy.

Is it strange that I didn’t recognize
The girl strutting around downtown
With Ana beside her smiling proudly?

The girl with no inhibitions.
The heartbreaker.
Femme fatale.
Do you speak French?
I don’t.
Neither did the stranger I met at the bar.
Only he wasn’t a stranger.

Ryne?

I wasn’t imagining him this time.