They Could Be Brothers

One of the people I work with on my project looks like D. The eyes, the eyelashes, the face, the nose, the lips, the chin, the skin.

The voice, the coloring and mannerisms are different. But the face.

It's kind of neat - like instant history and trust. An instant rapport. Makes me know that I can do my job and be appreciated.

I loved that face. I stared at it intently, for what seems like forever. Last year, in the words that were written, I could see it. My friend got some calls, she got the voice too. Lucky her.

I don't know what happened. I used to believe with all my heart, that we'd find our way back to each other. We did, then didn't, then did, then didn't.

With him, it's like plucking petals from a daisy. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.