I don’t
know who you are;
I’ve never heard
your name.

I see you in hallways,
in crowds
in empty space
on stages
under ground
over air

floating upon
a sea of misconceptions;

always silent enough
that you could hear a blackbird’s feather
drop like a hailstone.

always perfect.

you waft
eyes closed
inches above the ground,
your crystalline form
trampled upon
and run through.

you were seen
amongst others,
arrested by your disregard - of
them

then around you
formed an
impenetrable
vacuum of their
discontent,

a flock of
kingfishers
ready to dive from
their perch.

their eyes
glitter from within
the murk.

and when they'd
all left
and i finally stood
face to face with
you

all i could think to
say was
"i fucking love
love."