Image by Daniel Nebreda from Pixabay

25 July 2018

I am a stranger. We have not met, but our eyes have. Parts of our weak hearts may lust over each other. We may temporarily be within each other’s prying presence. Not for long. For in minutes, our hearts will once again become strangers. And our eyes may never meet again.

So let me savor you. As you savor me. Let me take in your every detail. Let me fall for you, to only in moments pick myself up again. Because we both know- we are too high above our horses to stoop low enough to utter a word- to be heard.

Look at me once more. Feed my hunger. Then let my fear take me.

For I fear our eyes, paths, lives- may never meet again.

That is my fear.

Loosing you, a stranger.


Who are you?

But you are gone.

What lays beyond the door you walked in and out from- has once again claimed you.

And I remain a stranger.

My eyes to myself.

And I to me.


I hope you enjoyed this piece on how even a stranger can become part of you and your memory. The second you describe someone internally or externally, they become part of you. Family, friends, and acquaintances are related to you by an obvious way or form; strangers however, are related to you by words. You simply summon words to define them- their existence. Those words to you- will forever embody them and their respective attributes no matter how subtly. And this is why yes, you and I are strangers, but now these words connect us.

An aspiring quant & writer at :

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