You remind me of someone else
From the kid who sat on my left at dinner
Tracing aimlessly the flowerly pattern
from the tablecloth, while I hear others' tea
in gargles, pretending I care for what is
missing in my own plate

Or the friend of a friend who showed me
Their favorite book, leaving no room to speak
Of the unknown
As for them loving one person in that room
was enough

To the sketch of the high mountains, crescent bow
And bright tiny dots above spotted from my window
at hours people forgets it's fine to wake up

You remind me of the warmth from the big hand
that squeezed mine last fall and the cold coming
from a band that touched my tender skin
You're in none of those stories, yet you got me to sigh
You are the details behind