The first time I saw you, nothing happened.
No white bright bolt of thought.
No pull at the midriff, no twang of the synapse, nothing like that.
Lights didn't come on, darkness didn't overcome me, I didn't blush, worry, panic or smile.
In fact I felt vaguely embarrassed about something.
As though I should have washed, or I was not wearing the right clothes. A lot had built up to this.
My mind and thoughts blew apart when I glanced back, and realised how intense your eyes could be.
I saw you the first time.
The second time, I saw more.
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