The Stranger Turned To Me

I looked up from what I was doing

and saw you in the park, and asked you

who you were waiting for

and you turned and as you turned

we found ourselves at our wedding

and I turned to you to say,

"Wait, what-"

and you turned to me and we were in a house

with pictures of us on the walls and I turned to you

and you said

"Who are you?" and I said

"Who am I? Who are you and what's going on-"

and you turned to me and our children

ran past us and the girl held onto my legs, laughing

and you turned to me and

my back began to ache and I caught the reflection of myself

in the mirror and my hair was starting to grey and I

turned to you and you had tears in your eyes

and you said, "Stop, please, stop," and I held your hand

and said, "I'm sorry, this isn't me, I'm not doing this -" and you

turned to me, at our boy's graduation and rested your head

against my shoulder and said, "How is this happening?" and I could not answer

but your head felt good against my shoulder, even if

it was my mother's funeral and I

turned to you in the empty house while we waited for one of them to call

and said, "If I had known, I would never have-" and you turned to me

as I turned to you

as you turned to me in the hospital bed, holding my hand

holding your hand, you turned to me and I turned to you

and I bent my head down and kissed you

and kissed you

and kissed you

for what will always feel

like the first time

and I turned to you.