(Untitled)

I'm looking for someone
whose name I do not know
whose face I have not seen
whose voice I have not heard

When it starts to rain on the long walk home
I feel your arm on my shoulder
and I can hear you fumbling
for an umbrella in your backpack

I know that you are looking for me, too
on your long walks home
when the streets are cold and the stars are asleep
you wonder how warm it must be in my embrace

You could be anyone
then again, you could be no one
I can't wait to meet you
but maybe I already have

(written for a good friend)