the way you hold your knife. . .

by echolocation i find you
in crowded bars
on street corners

beyond the blur of the crowd
your voice your laugh stands clear

i can see you by the cant of your shoulders
the bend of your knees as you sit there
calls out to me
identified as familiar
amidst the clutter of limbs bottles cans and glasses
some full some empty
a littering of distraction
insufficient to keep my eyes from finding
what i know too well