She walked in the room,
Her hair tightly held in a
Routinely executed bun,
Her clothes plain and boring.
No one would spare her a second glance.
She gracefully and skillfully
Slipped into a seat,
Quiet and unnoticed just as she liked.
She sat down, sipping champagne,
Watching waiters abuzz.
She sat alone, unlike many others
Who sat in company
For fear of being alone.
It didn't break her single,
Untouched spirit.
She felt content,
Her eyes wandering endlessly
From table to table.
She noticed a man,
Every hair combed neatly in place.
His clothes were plain and boring.
No one would spare him a second glance.
The first would have to do.
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