Poem: I Did Not Know It Was The Same,

I Did Not Know It Was The Same,

that you would remember it,
small thing, a detail
out of my life,
but yours as well,
and I never knew,
never asked
or thought,
no.  I do not think
it is strange
I did not ask,
it can't be strange,
but it is strange
to know another
and not know
what is the same,
to not recognize it.
Or is it always true,
is there always a convergence,
a small thing, a detail
so personal, specific,
a thing it seems impossible
another could know too,
could have experienced
as you once did.
Imagine if it is that way,
if their is always something,
no matter who it is,
Elizabeth who is Queen
or a guy living under the bridge
along the Bowery,
the waitress and the bad tipper,
the businessmen fighting for a client.
Any two people.
It could be,
thinking about it,
it could be that way,
with so much in each of us,
with so many specifics,
the miracle may be
finding the right one.

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