wandering eyes

lady walking looks lovely in her colorful, flowing hippy skirt and elegant but not gaudy blouse. shes not used to dressing up like this, especially in foreign places, unsure if she fits in paris or stands out like the pale guy in shorts and birkenstocks. i see her, but my eyes skip around too quickly and shes lost her youthful curves and developed baggy eyes. i realize, however that she didnt stun me but i liked her style, so lovely on such a great sunday afternoon. i decide she put those clothes on specifically for today; not haphazard, she planned this. i turn back to greet her in some passing manner, and smile for her choice sunday dress, but as i do, i watch her head drop ashamed, chin tucked into her neck. she wants to hide away from eyes like mine, that wander around and, before i know it, compliment or insult people without my knowing. my heart drops into my stomach and i want to vomit. this image, like others - the time i spoiled moms surprise; the eyes that questioned me as i gave up on a love i was afraid of - will forever haunt me.