* Another observation lost among the endless entries of the Archives...we pass by so many people every day, people that we only look at for a moment and then never see again, but we do not know how even a tenth of a second of eye contact, a brush against the arm, or a simple "hello" with a stranger can create a permanent connection...*
If I meet you, you’ll end up taking
Some little part of me,
I probably wouldn’t miss it,
And you won’t even know you have it,
But it’ll be a loose thread, a residue,
That for the rest of your life clings to you.
And I’ll probably be stuck with some granule
Of you too, wedged beneath my nails
Like sand, or peanut butter.
And even if I pick at it, you’ll still be there,
Snaking under my skin,
And I may forget you’re there after a while
But eventually I’ll recognize
That the part of me you took
Was replaced by that smidgen of you,
And I would feel infected and robbed
And really quite squeamish,
And neither of us will have even said a word
To one another
And yet, we’d linger on each other like
Some sticky, icky, slicky, tricky lichen
Growing, flowing, sewing itself all over
Until we’re consumed by one another
And have been permanently changed forever.
And this is why I don’t work in customer service.