I’ve met you before in reoccurring peaceful dreams of powder blue and violet.
I’ve met you before, our meetings as certain, as fickle as the seasons,
when you rained down on me, sure and endlessly sorrowful.
I’ve met you, in the myriad exact mirrors I passed unexpectedly and unaware.
I’ve met you, before, I know it;
You took my seat on the train just as I descended
You turned the corner of the street while I crossed hurriedly
I was at the dinner party you politely declined
I picked up and bought the book you carefully considered
We’ve met before, a million meetings, though I don’t know your name.
I’ve met you before, the gentle harmonized sigh, the gaze towards the wise full moon synchronized with a wish to meet someday soon.