he is not you
you are not him
both of you are different
but both of you said the same thing

"I don't know about next year, what's gonna happen, what's gonna be"

Today is almost several years ago. There is that similiar cold, that familiar rain drops.

I remember the wet leaves on the ground, wind blewing against my face and things I talked about in your warm tiny little room, sometime in the afternoon.

Today I am sad and really there's nothing much to say.

not a word to say

just my imagination

and I imagine you,

in that blue shirt, in that lobby, in that hotel, in new york, staring at your laptop religiously as you work.

and I stole a glance of you

really, I imagine it was you.

in between the dimming lights, in that clean short hair cut, in the look that he gave me back

and somehow I imagine it was you..