Infatuation With A Stranger
April 4th 2008 14:39
Walt Whitman says, in To A Stranger:
Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
I say:
I think it's essential to adore the next person that pops into my life. I make it a point to exalt in all people until they give me reason not to do so. Even then, I do not stop loving them, because someday they may realise that they are capable of more than they can currently conceptualise of, and I will know they always had it in them.
You say:
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