She walks by every
time I am outside
new outfit every
time,
same blank, yet
melancholy introspection.
Her back
faces me
and I
laugh.

She could be my
guardian angel.
She follows
me around
not protecting me
from any harm, which is
exactly why she would
be my guardian
angel-
same expression
cryptic emotion
waiting for
what?

I went to the
aquarium here in Monterey,
I saw fish, sponges, crustations,
anemones.
I walked the
cannery row.
Steinbeck told me
there is a muse
here.
I entered the aquarium gift shop
with my sister and
she
was there,
alone, as always.
She stabbed me in the
stomach with her
beauty.
And just the sheer coincidence

Coincidence.

Inside, I just want
to talk to her and
ask
"Who are
you?, why do I
see you
everywhere
I go?"

Microcosm:
you are my doppleganger, yet
you do not
look like
me.

Over the noise
of the ocean, I
faintly hear things that
could be voices or
footsteps or
nothing.
I stiffen in scared
anticipation - of what
I don't
know. Not
that I would ever
talk, I never
talk.

But other men talk to her
filled with
curiosity and
cum.
She talks to them