Something I wrote for a stranger
Is it strange that I long to know you?
I am waiting for your reveal
where the lines that frame the shape of your face,
every curve and cut,
appear before my eyes.
Is it too odd that I sit and stare
for the first glimpse of what you look like
to travel in an envelope of light
which I will open up and save in a glass bottle of my mind?
I, for some curious reason have decided
that the picture of your face
is one that will leave my mind
flooding with luminescence.