When We Meet Again…

Wisdom isn’t yet something my body has weathered.

My soul, however, is the greatest-grandmother, tethered in wrinkles,

like death has come knocking before and I welcome her as a familiar face;

past life deja-vu,

and it’s something like that feeling I got when I first kissed you.

You know, like we had been here before —

soul mates; so we meet again, and again.

Nice to make your acquaintance my familiar friend.

I hope I can take some lessons with me to my next stop,

like, chew my food and eat from the earth,

be kind to everything,

and… your eyes.

Please, Mr. or Mrs. God thing,

let me remember your eyes,

let me catch your gaze on a plane or a train, or across the room at an average Venice party, and stop —

if only for a moment, and remember you.