Hey There, Stranger

What’s your name?

I’ve been looking for you.

The trees are finally starting to turn even though it isn’t winter here and it will never be winter here. They’re confused by the last week of rain and the two, yes, count them, two days of biting cold that chased us out in our jackets and lined the electric company’s pockets with our hot, humid rooms.

I’ve been looking for you.

Judging by your grin I see poetry isn’t dead. It’s just sleeping. Well, wake it up, won’t you.
I’m bored as hell.

I’ve been looking for you.

I can’t sleep. Every night I lie in bed listening to the cat snore. Yes I suppose I could get up and do something but I always find myself too paralyzed to do anything except think about why I can’t sleep:

I’ve been looking for you.

I don’t know what you look like and I don’t have your phone number so I can’t call you.

I’m not on Facebook so I can’t friend you.

I’ve been looking for you.