I see you

someone

who looks like you

& I miss a beat

a way of biting

inner cheek

& you

those long legs

how you bent over

to see things in the street

not that I want to meet you

just that I still think

of you

sometimes

what could

might’ve been

if you weren’t you

& I wasn’t me

I miss the thing

we did not have

could not create

much as I love

roses in winter

a wry word tip of the tongue

that can’t be found

turning to look in the forest

for wraiths not there

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