Repeat

My skin responds to the chill in the air, it raised erect and saluted; respect to familiarity
I have been here before.
Sheathe in eerie comfort that assures me of its prophetic purpose
My voice compelled to sing, a love song that poetically speaks of reciprocity.
However, no one right now I love, or, is loving me.
I have been here before, this night—happy.
Lying in the dark, cushioned in pillows watching you inadvertently, aid a crook of youth, lives, and dreams.
Your beauty, hauntingly magnetic, it hauls me to your face and froze me there
Your hair a humble and lazy fire, your eyes, a mesmerizing black abyss, your lashes, a slide of glorious sheen, your skin, a pink, fleshy apricot—too pretty
I have been here before, what is it you want of me?
Staring at your beauty, scared in this room, trying to recall the moment I remembered this reality;
Am I living too soon?
Am, I close to an end, or is this merely confirmation of the right era my soul is to be in?
I have been here before.
Again, I live; again, I breathe.
I take in the smells, sounds, and sights, and document them for proof, for me but, truly, for you.
For when I am taken back and awake to my dream, I will have tangible evidence of reality,
But, should I tell you?
Would you believe me, even though, I bring perceptible indications in bulk for you.
Would you think me crazy, a believer in conspiracy theory?
I will say nothing, not for you, but for me,
For even though, I have seen this before,
My memory, and the tangible things they may bring, is certainly not enough for me, let alone sufficient to convince you.
Still I cannot be anything but certain, this today, right now, my reality is a memory of old, a relive thing, people have named—déjà vu.
What have you come to say, see, or do?
Or, will I have to wait, until another relive moment reveals your meaning thoroughly through?