lamenting

"Friend"

by Antoine

Tonight I met a person

the kind of person who is more connected

with herself and more special than the rest

but who feels suppressed because no one is willing

to acknowledge that she is the best

I know her name but she never learned mine

she has no way to find me to tell me

the world is her stage and her heart is mine

her passions align with the seasons

the seasons change from the passage of time

and time passes only when she wills it to

I recognized her face from a dream

I knew it was her when she smiled

There is no way of knowing

of whether I ever will see her again

but there's no use lamenting a sequence of events

(We'll meet again if our meeting is meant to occur,

and if not then I'll kiss her tonight with my eyes closed)

The question I ponder is how long this memory

a ten-minute snapshot of her vacant beauty

will sustain my thirst for the golden ratio

and my craving for someone who understands

just how it feels to be perfectly imperfect

and in love

with the smile of someone stranger

and the flavour of the silence of an overt friend

For now it is enough

[11.7 at 9:24]