You think you have met
someone like me before
but
admit it
(At least to yourself)
that you may have not.

I think I met someone
like you
way back
in university
he was a philosophy major
and he followed me
with his eyes
until in front
of James Dean
exhibition he said
the right things
to get me to have cafe
but his notebooks
were complicated
his ideas far fetched
his apartment filthy
and I never saw him again.

You’re not like anyone;
I may be like everyone;
but the cold sun
is not warming up my love.

The words are useless
to a mere touch.
The drive is vacant
without you
Joking around
and making me laugh.
You sleep
I dream.
I dream
you sleep.

It seems in the middle of the night
we wake up
and drive into each other
without a collision.
I can feel the drive in
to work
miles away,
I can feel strange
things
I’ve admitted to no one.
(Not even to myself).