Some days need poems

Passing Stranger - W. Whitman

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.


Charles said...

PS. We know who shot Aaron Echolls--they showed who it was! Backchannel me if you need a memory jog. :)

PPS. I just typed "memory job," which seems both innovative and very sexy.

jeremy said...

Charles -

Memory job, I love it!!
And you know, I rremembered who shot Echolls after I left my comment! D'oh!

Well, at least we'll get to find out what was in Kendall Casablancas' briefcase--and that means at least some of season 3 with our good fried Cordie.

(I love that my 2 straight "guy" roomies like Veronica Mars as much as me. It was a tough sell for about 4 episodes, but then they were hooked!)

durban bud said...

That sounds very similar to the poem I wrote for hot porn star, Jake Dakota.

RC said...

thanks for sharing this.

--RC of strangeculture.blogspot.com