I see you in places I never expected.
Sometimes your eyes are staring back at me from the face of a stranger. You walk past me, your gait now belonging to another. I see the way your hand moved, the twist of an eyebrow, your laugh, the determined set of your chin, only…. it is not you.
They have all stolen you.
I don’t know if I should love all of these people or hate them.
Perhaps the better question is do I love or hate you?