FAMILIAR STRANGER by Abby Jean

Aug 28 ’17
I feel like I haven’t written him a poem in awhile.
I feel like that because I haven’t.
I think of him all the time.
I’ve taken the time in between times..
To let him know.
He knows already.
I feel it when I see him.
He sees me too.
I feel like… I don’t have to explain.
Like… I can express anything to him.
He might crank his neck sideways to understand.
He might have to take my words as takeout.
Eat them later.
But he never looks at me crooked.
He knows.
He knows where I come from.
The level of comfort…..
The level of comfort that places me in…….
Exhale.
I think of him all the time.
The strange thing is.
I never see him as my boyfriend.
In my visions.
I somehow see him as… like… a twin.
The flame style.
I see him as… a reflection.
I’m repeating myself I know.
Repeating when I hate repetition.
But it’s a next-level felt, this thing.
I study it.
Study the frequency between us.
Study the reason I need us.
I haven’t written him a poem in awhile.
I’m gonna send this one.

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