Friday, September 30, 2016

Yes, still.

The heart has a way of finding you
Of reaching out,
Of catching the hiccough in your step
In others.

Or the way you shrug,
In coy denial
Of your sheer genius.

It has a way of recognizing
Your eyes,
In that,
You don’t recognize yourself anymore
When you look in the mirror
Every day
The same way I do
And I don’t
See myself either.

The heart has a way of knowing
That you too,
Are wary
And aware
Of me.

But if you aren’t
Then so be it.

More happiness to you for it.

But the heart has a way of knowing.

It knows that,
Some place
In some time.

There will be regret,
Felt anew
Maybe by me,
Maybe by you.

I wish it weren’t true.

But the heart has a way
Of knowing

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