the ineffable smile

I saw a girl once: it was at a party,
and i remember because she wore
a dress, a most delightful number.

Much was said of this girl that night;
we all agreed
there was none so splendid as she.
But if she heard us she gave no sign,
save the ineffable smile
she bore all night.

Years later, I met her and thought to ask
what had become of that dress
and if she still wore it sometime?

She gave no answer, but said
that when she’d bought it,
they hadn’t her size but she’d taken it
anyway, one size larger.
They’d told her that it was fine
really, and that it looked just as good.
No one’d noticed of course and everyone loved it,
I reminded her.

She looked at me —
“but i knew it wasn’t right,
the size and my body,
it wouldn’t let me forget that.”
I thought i heard anguish in her voice then.
She never wore that dress again.

Now when I think back
to the party, and how lovely she looked,
I wonder if maybe
there was something important I might have missed
in the smile she wore that night.

-comicbookguy