We were strangers,
Whose sights seemed related.
That day by the mill
I remembered your scars,
Like I pictured my birth
Yet with inaccurate thought.
I heard my mind race,
As your breath’s warmth
Reached for my eye as you blew.
It touched my adrenaline’s youth,
I stood glued to imaginary sanity,
So why do horses run in my thoughts,
And why now does looking back become a nightmare.
Was i lost or was I in a dream,
In dreams people fly,
Like paper kites only to fall in a storm.
In dreams people are rich,
Only to rise to a stink of the old screaming bed.
But I saw you,
I felt your lips,
And your tongue’s tip
As they sealed like a concrete.
And sight of you became a harmonica,
That once blasted in prison,
That month I there grazed
I see you as much as I hear it.
Measure for pleasure and toil,
All is and always will be at par.
When am I going to see you again?

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