Familiar strangers are everywhere.
Some look like you,
remind me of you.
On Kensington Avenue
there is a man
I have talked to.
Why?
Perhaps because I thought
he looked a bit like you.
Though he was much older.
He could almost be a much older you...
He could almost be your dad..
maybe...
He is a shopkeeper
In the market
of finely hand-crafted bags.
The market...
One of my favourite places to be.
So many interesting people
So many curious places.
You would love it here.
The man was so friendly.
His deep brown eyes
just like yours.
He gave me perfume.
Remember I told you
about the perfume I was wearing?
It was years ago...
but I remember.
He was a man on Kensington Ave.
A familiar stranger.
Friendly to me.
Perhaps I was too friendly to him.
He reminded me of you.
And sent me into
this nostalgic wander.
Your eyes.
I miss your eyes.
I miss your messy hair.
I miss your voice.
I'm crazy.
I miss you.

****** I'm crazy.

I wish this bitter-sweet nostalgia
would end.
Because it's not like
I am ever to see or hear
from you...
ever again.

All because I walked down Kensington Ave.
And met that friendly man.