From a Stranger to a Stranger

I’ve only met you once, for the briefest of seconds, but I knew that your presence would be etched into my memories for weeks after.
You were tall; Your posture erect and manly. And your grey shirt made quite the impression on me. It was as if you knew I saw the world through grey-tinted glasses. As if you both knew and understood me— as if that’s even possible.

You asked me a question— made me notice you. I turned around, and my head barely reached the tips of your collar bone. You made me notice you, and I noticed you.

Even though it was a fifth of a conversation between strangers, I knew you would haunt me. You exuded control— tipped my urges over the edge.
I wanted to drop onto my knees and hail your very presence. Make you the King that you were born to be.

I don’t have to be your Queen. Just let me be the one who places the crown of thorns on your head.

I’m sorry I didn’t have the right words to say in return. I’m sorry I kept staring in your direction for hours after. I wanted to make you believe that it was meant to be. Not just a casual encounter, but something more. A meeting between two lonely souls lost between a divider of classes.

Honestly, your features are lost in my memories. I don’t recall the exact tint of your lips or even the ridges of your nose. All I remember is that you touched me from within. That with just those few words, you made me want more.

I would’ve crawled onto your lap if you asked me to— peeled off the skin of my fingertips if you wanted me to.

You controlled me from within, and I’m sorry to see you go. You may not know me, and you may not even remember me, but your essence will forever haunt me.

For it was the first time I walked across the bridge,
and hopefully not the last time I feel the fire burn from within.