6/19/15 Strangers

In the morning I can always find you on the other side of the bed.

You curl up amid the valley’s of blankets.

You elaborate on the dreams I haven’t dreamt

in which we’ve never even met

but as strangers

sit beside one another in a movie theater, both alone.

It is a strange thing to enter a theater by oneself

but we are both capable of it

independant as we know each other to be.

And as we watch a movie, not knowing the other,

about a man who has it good with a woman he loves

but drives her away by his indifference.

Then there is a comedic friend who

knows both the characters and brings them

together with one last final hurray in which

a grave is desecrated and a hot air balloon

crash lands in Wales.

All very tidy ending, really.

And that’s when I get up to leave

and you do to and the seat

on my right is empty

and the seat to your left is empty

and I turn to you or you turn to me

and one of us says, though now we

debate who actually said it,

“That was a nice first date,” and we both laugh and leave

and think we know what’s coming, but we don’t.

And to this day, I keep guessing.

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