There’s something about you…

I cannot be sure,

Because I had no pleasure meeting you in person,

But I swear there’s something about you.

 

It’s hardly visible.

But it hits me square and jumps in front of my eye,

Begging: look, look, LOOK!

You know me.

 

I know you?

You speak and assure,

With every little gesture and unguarded word, it worsens,

The suspicion. I turn blue.

 

Identically invisible…

The thought flashes, eliciting a sharp cry.

Oh dear, what did those bastards took

From thee!?