With your pretty wife and your white striped shirt.
What do you know of me ?
Do you know I sleep in a mound of soft blankets, pillow and rumpled curls a-tangle? Do you know I like coffee more than I should and that I have my most amusing conversations with myself? Do you know of my obsession with rereading books,even the murder mysteries? Do you know who I love?
Because,once upon a time,stranger,you weren’t.
You were the voice I welcomed the melting azure of dawn with. You lit my blood up- warm like the hearth,hot like a blaze. You were my most amusing conversation. The one I ran to with a problem,a solution,an inspiration. The one who knew the intricacies of each day of mine.
Now we’ve both long moved on,our paths have diverged completely- each blissfully unaware of the other. Maybe I’m just a blur, that rushes back after a drink too many or nostalgia sparked by an old photograph. A twinge, but momentary.
I thought that I’d be that woman on your arm.
But now you’re just a stranger.
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