To K

I know not what you mean,
All things aren’t what they seem.
A word is just a word –
Waiting just to be heard.

Perhaps we met in a past life,
Perhaps you ease some part of strife.
Why should I give feeling a name?
I know not if it remains the same.

I know you hear a part of me
And that you, at times, set pain free.
Why should you mean or seem true?
Maybe you are how I see you.

What is now is real – for awhile.
Let’s not think, shall we? Let’s just smile.

6am

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