When I entered a cafe
on a particular friday
I saw a tall, lean guy
behind the counter
He had a pair of familiar eyes
I didn't remember
I took a good look
at the cut on his eyebrows
and it reminded me of the scar
I had on my right thigh
As he muttered,
"How can I help you?"
I forgot
how we were living
in bodies, trapping
our souls from
reaching each other
I didn't know him then
but I remembered his smile
I looked at him
in curiosity
wondering
if he remembered mine
The guy was no book
I couldn't read him
like a piece of literature
The guy was no song
I couldn't listen
to what his heart
was singing
The guy was no film
I couldn't watch
his entire life before
my eyes
But the guy was like
every other guy
so I dreamt a whole
lifetime with his presence
and I said,
"No, never mind,"
and walked away.