you are nameless.
a faceless,
figment of my overdeveloped imagination
; who lurks in libraries and drinks from porcelain coffee cups,
who wears dark rimmed glasses and blue baseball caps.
I thought I saw you once, walking my way with a ring on your finger
and a black case slung on your shoulder but when I squinted and puckered my lips & tilted my face, it wasn’t you.
And again, my retinas mistook your plaid shirt and kind words for someone I thought I knew, but the cold air and snowy ground brought my eyes into focus and it wasn’t you, either(must have been a failure of rods and cones; im so sure.)
So now I wait:
I wait in a rainfall at a bus stop for a sign,or a glance
& sometimes I get them- those steel blue eyes or irises the colour of Rain forest foliage but,
Still
They don’t say what I want to hear.