I see you

Yesterday, two women told me,

‘I see you’,

In unrelated conversational moments of candor,

Amid the intensity of discussions,

About work or about love.

A colleague and a friend,

Both brilliant,

Two separate well-placed bodyblows

To the act that I carry

That no-one knows me or sees me;

No-one loves me;

And no-one cares.

A takedown, sleeper, blitzkrieg move,

Came waiting at a light,

This morning on my way to work.

I spied and honked a friend

I hadn’t seen in months.

She rushed me, from the street,

Through the passenger window

And stretched across the seat,

To kiss me, mwah, against my cheek.

So that later now, as I walk to lunch,

With drafts to read and check,

Across this parking lot,

I stop, winded and reeling,

As something inside tears and breaks,

An iceberg cracking

In this act that I carry

That no-one knows me or sees me;

No-one loves me;

And no-one cares.

And thinking of my friends,

Who know I have this thing, this act;

I think that I should stop

And write this down right now

Before I forget and start to think

That no-one knows me or sees me;

No-one loves me;

And no-one cares.