You don’t know, do you?
That, in a crowded place, my eyes will always search for you
one thousand miles away
in a different country
somewhere you couldn’t possibly be
I’ll look for you
and I’ll see you there
in every pair of brown eyes
in every head of short, dark hair
in every walk that is just a bit too confident
you’ll come to my mind
your name will sound in my ears
and every memory of you will play like
an old film before my eyes
a bit faded
jumping over some parts
but holding the greatest stories
it will hurt when logic finds its way through
like the heat of the projector lamp
the movie will burn away leaving nothing but
an understanding that
this is
not
real

-h.n.g