To a Stranger

Passing stranger!

you do not know

How longingly I look upon you,

You must be he I was seeking

Or she I was seeking

(It comes to me as a dream)

I have somewhere surely

Lived a life of joy with you,

All is recall'd as we flit by each other,

Fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured

You grew up with me,

Were a boy with me

or a girl with me,

I ate with you and

slept with you,

your body has become

not yours only nor

my body mine only,

You give me the pleasure of your eyes,

face, flesh as we pass,

You take of my hands , breast,

in return

I am not to speak to you,

I am to think of you

when I sit alone or

wake at night, alone

I am to wait, I do not

doubt I am to meet

you again

I am to see to it that I

do not lose you

-Walt Whitman