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.