Your fingers
Your prints
imprint them on me
  
press Your prints
so hard into mine
that my prints
become unidentifiable
  
without Your prints on me
i have only my identity
me, nothing, nameless
number B47 in the waiting line
  
but with You
i can forge a new ID
Your prints will be
my prints, You will be my Prince
  
i look at my prints;
small circular lines
filled with memories and dirt
but Your's...
  
Your's are so clean
prints, patterns, codes,
spelling out words,
creating verses,
all saying how You are perfect
  
so imprint Your prints on me
because without You
these fingers
  
these prints
  
could never bring peace

walking alone from the home i remember
pile of pennies
two years last september
surrounded by friends
it used to be our time
now viral repeated's
the least of our new crimes

i remember when one sip was such a rebellion
now we drink the ocean
hope our lack of devotion
won't put us in coffins alone

A normal day
another office journey
punctuated boredom
with smiles of recognition

and then there She was
with your boots, your coat
with you hair and form
a glance
a refusal to believe it wasn’t so
told me it was you
so I looked again
and in love

She looked
(but she didn’t look like you)
She smiled
(but she didn’t smile like you)
She talked
(but she didn’t talk like you)

and when I left the train
I left her too
- she wasn’t You.