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for-the-sparrowsPoems
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.
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Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
On Kensington Ave.
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.
dammit...I told myself I wouldn't write about him.
for-the-sparrows
Written by
for-the-sparrows
Icelander
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
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