There are people whose names I know without their faces.
There are people whose faces I know without their names.
There is a “you” out there I have yet to discover.
I probably seen you before;
walking in the street, passing by me in the hallways
or perhaps sitting in the table across mine in the restaurant.
Yes, yes, yes
We have probably met.
No words or glances exchanged.
Just the quick movement from my peripheral vision,
and perhaps I am the same to you.
But there are times,
I swear there are times,
when that unknown “you” becomes
a John or a Jane.
We spoke for hours on end in a forgettable dream
If I’m lucky,
I can still remember the words
a fictional you said to an unconscious me.
If I were the romantic that I say I am
then perhaps during forgettable nights
lonely souls look for friends.
Where they can talk and play and dance
without the physical limitations we detest so much.
Where you are not the sum of your education or status.
Where you are not a country or a province.
Where we are unlabeled and unapologetic.
Can I still say I know you?
If it were the other way around and you’d ask me
I’d say yes
