He forgets how lovely she is.
Their lives only touch at the edges. He has not seen her for days. She only visited him in his imagination. He could not fully recreate her perfection in his fantasies.
So when they meet inevitably yet unexpectedly, he is knocked sideways by the collision. He is stunned by the lithe and elegant sensuality of her body. His breath is stolen by her brown-eyed beauty.
He is blown away by her smile.
He cannot understand why every man does not ache for her.
As he does.
(The photograph is a great favourite of mine – ‘American Girl in Italy’, taken by Ruth Orkin in 1951. I love the way she has captured the impact of the girl’s innocent beauty on her testosterone-rich admirers).