Dear Stranger

I don’t know what you thought of me
When you saw me
But we were somewhere on the same journey
Our shadows followed each other
When we walked by the Vaugirard street
And shared a lifetime of seconds
When we sat
On that park bench
Far from the frenzied crowd
We watched the sky
Under the dark cloud
The salty rain
Tickled our necks
We counted the droplets
Imagined reaching for them,
Like for each other
Black clothes, leather gloves
You’re on the other end of café de flore
Everything feels so intense
You wave at me
I ignore you with a glance
Then the thunderstorm lined our heartbeats
And we fell so much harder
Than we ever had before
And there’s no remedy for memory
Like Lana’s painful poetry
For your gaze
That night
Have struck a match in my head
Igniting a blaze of melody
Melting my soul,
You saw the radiant glow in my eyes
Then walked away like a stranger
Watching me burn
And I’ll never know
Who you were dear ”stranger”
Cause you are just a figment of my imagination
in between lectures
Experimenting how to turn unsatisfying reality
Into this world of imagination;
In Freud’s eyes
pervasive disappointment was indeed inevitable