It's strange to think I've never met you but there are pieces of you, these poems, I know by heart. Just when life seemed to matter little you braved my heart's eclipse to bathe me with your light. A thousand different yesterdays could've left me all alone. A thousand different yesterdays would not have left me bleeding where you touched me. Lost in the maze of our imagining. Lost in the harsh glare of forgetting. The sun which is always rising, is always setting.