Something I wrote for a stranger

Is it strange that I long to know you?

I am waiting for your reveal

where the lines that frame the shape of your face,

every curve and cut,

appear before my eyes.

Is it too odd that I sit and stare

for the first glimpse of what you look like

to travel in an envelope of light

which I will open up and save in a glass bottle of my mind?

I, for some curious reason have decided

that the picture of your face

is one that will leave my mind

flooding with luminescence.