Dearest Stranger,

 Oh, you think you know me so well,

but do you?
My favorites,
do you know them all?

You think you could ask me
the same thing. Oh, but
you cannot.
For I know all of yours.

All your little tells:
the slight raise of your brows when
you are lost in thought,
the downward turn of your lip when
you contemplate your decisions.

Do you also know me
in that intimate way?
Or was I the only one who
studied everything you did
and why you did it so?

I still wonder, dearest stranger,
did you lift your brows
or twist your lip before
you decided to leave me behind?

Did you ever wonder what
the stranger who knows everything about you
would do?





P.S: yup, contest.


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