STRANGERS

History, Oldie but goldie, Poetry

Strangers

Every time we meet

Starting all over

The mind games,

The empty pauses,

The meaningless words,

The searching glances,

For someone we knew

Long ago in our pulses

And our heaving breaths

That frosted over cold glass

When pulses beat in tandem,

Breaths mingled,

& we breathed

Each other’s sighs

And we stifled

Each other’s moans.

We walked away

From it

And ourselves

To be not one.

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