I didn't know
who would be reading—
who would be reading—
but then again,
I must have known roughly
how it would go, since
I could picture you singing
the tune in your head—
line after line,
line after line,
never rushing, never stumbling,
as if you knew which word
because you and I
but close enough
And I realized,
the words didn't matter.
not stopping until
you got to the end—
as if you knew which word
should come next
by heart,
because you and I
were now the same.
Not entirely, of course,
Not entirely, of course,
but close enough
to look the part.
It was as if our two souls
shared a shadow; as if,
for half a minute there,
we were so busy
that we wouldn't have
remembered, if asked,
what our names were.
And I realized,
after all this time, that
that was all I wanted;
the words didn't matter.
It wasn’t quite art—but it was
a good start.
a good start.