maybe

if a man
comes up to you and says,
i think that if this
were another time
maybe
i could have known
you a little better,
and you've never met
this man before
never ever
what do you think you would say?
maybe,
excuse me,
maybe,
who are you?
maybe,
i'm sorry?
and then maybe he says,
oh, what?
or maybe,
don't you remember
that time in cleveland,
or maybe,
for what?
do you think you would walk away?
or maybe you stand there
and talk to this man
this stranger
because you're interested
because he's interesting
after all
he came and said this to you
but you don't remember
or maybe you don't recognize
and so you say,
have we met before?
and he answers
but you get distracted
because daisy, your little pug,
is tugging at the leash
and you turn your head
just as he answers
and miss what he said
but maybe you hear
just a piece
a tiny part
and you remember for a moment
that maybe
you have met
that maybe
you shared a seat on the bus
or a seat at the bar
or a bench at the lake
or a wave at the beach
or a step at the park
and maybe you say,
oh, now i remember,
and he says,
oh, well, i'm glad,
and you think back
while daisy tugs a bit
while the man rubs his head
and maybe
you say,
but i knew you okay,
and the man blinks
once
twice
and smiles
and maybe
he says,
no.
you didn't know me at all,
and he smiles
and turns
and walks away
and maybe you say,
wait,
or
i don't understand,
or
maybe
you say nothing at all
and a train goes by
or a bird flies past
or a dog barks twice
and you forget
just as fast
as you remembered
that maybe
you didn't know
all along