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.
The thought flashes, eliciting a sharp cry.
Oh dear, what did those bastards took
From thee!?
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