When I think of you
It's not about the mornings
Or the afternoons

When I think of you
I think of white lined paper
Writing love letters

When I think of you
I see the warm deep sunrise
Cool shades of colors

When I think of you
To think of what we could be
Makes me break inside

When I think of you
It makes me long for something
More than just kisses

When I think of you
I think of what you feel like
Parchment under hands

When I think of you
I wish I knew who you were

Because every stranger that passes on a busy street, every man who smiles at me, every person who offers to help me with my groceries, or holds the door... I wonder if it's you. And I don't know how much longer that I can handle the truth that no one is.