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Edited on Wed Dec-07-11 01:41 PM by OswegoAtheist
When did you colour your hair, how are you so short? {or so tall?} I see you {is it you?} standing in line, waiting in the distance for a bus that never arrives. The heat devils blur your shape, like driving on a road at the edge of a radio station’s reach.
And now you’re standing in the grocery store, reading the side of a carton of milk {which you never drink}. You have tattoos I’ve never seen before, and I don’t know what they mean; and the shape of your face has changed {at least from this far away…}
Do you look for me as I look for you? Am I found in every stranger, in every person in the distance? {do I appear to you at all?} My longing to be with you again fills my eyes with your memory, and brushes my cheek with your absent hand.
But still, every day-- every hour! I find you where you cannot be, on city streets you’ve never walked, or pushing an empty stroller through the park, avoiding a sprinkler you’d have run through before. {are you not as carefree as I remember you?}
Do you know that I’m looking for you in every face I pass? The long hot days of Summer stand between us, and I’ll count the days until the Autumn leaves begin to fall, and the radiant heat that rises from the street will obscure you no more.
Oswego "#occupyoswego" Atheist
Edited to fix problem with brackets
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