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.
