The heart
has a way of finding you
Of reaching
out,
Of catching
the hiccough in your step
In others.
Or the way
you shrug,
Roundedly,
In coy
denial
Of your
sheer genius.
It has a
way of recognizing
Your eyes,
In that,
You don’t recognize
yourself anymore
When you
look in the mirror
Every day
The same
way I do
And I don’t
See myself
either.
The heart
has a way of knowing
That you
too,
Are wary
And aware
Of me.
But if you
aren’t
Then so be
it.
More
happiness to you for it.
But the
heart has a way of knowing.
It knows
that,
Someday,
Somewhere,
Some place
In some
time.
There will
be regret,
Felt anew
Maybe by
me,
Maybe by
you.
I wish it
weren’t true.
But the
heart has a way
Of knowing
You.
