Chances Are

chances are
we meet someday
and you shall
have a glimpse
of me

but you hesitate
and try
to create a little distance
to make
sure that
it is really me,

aquiline nose
sad eyes
lean body
and an
aura of
divinity

and then you step back
telling yourself

it is not him
he smells like Tanduay in his poems.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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