I stalk,
And then I find you in my belongings
I find you between age old books as a stained piece of paper unbelonging in the chapters
I find you behind a photograph stained and almost unrecognisable, I find you there as worn out ink and there I try to read you but fail oh so miserably
I continue to search for you, find you and lose you again in the mass of my clutter while the clock ticks on waiting until I find you again