I used to know you.  I used to know you a very long time ago.  You were kidnapped.  You were stolen, before I could know you, before I had a chance to know you.  You were more than a friend, more than an ally, more than loyal, I was the one who let you be taken.  I didn’t know, I was stupid, I was the one who disconnected.  I was the one left horrified on one of those milk bottle doorstep mornings.  You were just waking up, like the sleepy town, like the sleepy people and I was forsaken and so too were you, as the dawn broke, as my hymen broke, as the world broke and you became my unfamiliar.

You with those golden and caramel lights in your hair and your sun kissed skin.  The way you held your body.  The way you moved so confidently in the air around you and the way that breeze blew your future over your face, but you didn’t see, at least not with your eyes.

You were unfinished and wild and I brought you down, so far down, you laid your taught muscled stomach on the floor, laid low and wept.  I watched.  Pitied you even.  I left you there, my unfamiliar.

You were always exalted. I want you to know you were always exalted.  

You were always complete.

It was I who denied you. It was I who tore you and ripped you and disowned you. 

You waited.  All this long forgotten time you waited. 

We touch. We reconnect. We get another chance to soar. 

Be in me and I in you so we are not unfamiliar anymore.





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