Untitled Connection

I get the feeling
I've seen you before.
Almost as if I saw you
woven into the treebranches,
green as grass
with intricate patterns
circling across
your eyelids
like that of tree bark
that scratches against
the palm of my hand.
Or, maybe,
flipping through an old
worn photo album,
I found you,
trapped in a moment of time,
smiling, or laughing,
or crying,
with an umbrella
in your hand,
and a crumb from some pastry
you ate,
on the right side of your mouth.
Or, maybe,
I get the feeling
I've seen you before,
just because I'd like to
feel as if we're more connected
than strangers passing
on the street.