Not Knowing You

This poem
is for you.
whom I have looked upon
and seen rarely.

For the all the times we did not see each other passing by,
in the dead of the winter,
heads buried in jacket collars.

For all the times we held somebody else’s hand,
in the intersection,
on the way to home.

For you catching the bus and me biking with words blossoming in my mouth
For me sleeping ’till noon and you getting your coffee at 7AM.
For the times we have held the same coffee mug in the same cafe
in different times.
(And feeling the warmth of coffee on your soft hands)

For never knowing you, yet loving you –


Washington, D.C.

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