To A Stranger

Walt Whitman

   PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
   You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me,
         as of a dream,)
   I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
   All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate,
         chaste, matured,
   You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,
   I ate with you, and slept with you--your body has become not yours
         only, nor left my body mine only,
   You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass--you
         take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
   I am not to speak to you--I am to think of you when I sit alone, or
         wake at night alone,
   I am to wait--I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
   I am to see to it that I do not lose you.                          10

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