Do I know you somehow?

sad woman

There’s a strange familiarity

I feel,

each time I hear your voice.

A lover’s lament seems to shadow you,

In sunlight or the deep-dark of night.


You wear  a widow’s mourning clothes

though a ring on your finger keeps you bound,

your brimming heart fills with emptiness,

as Love’s Machiavellian escapades

repeatedly  wear you down.


I swear I have seen your face before

in another place and time.

Perhaps it’s the similarity

of the dilemma that we both have to contend,

the yearning for a love more complete

as we once dreamed it would be,

or a searching for something new,

first to find in ourselves.


I have no answers as to why things change,

they just do.

But I know that control rests

in how we react to changes too.

So next time we meet, wear colors of orange-bright

Open all your windows and doors and let in the shimmering light!