Not Strangers

There is a place for us.
Created before we knew each other.
I am speaking to someone I don’t know now.
You know who you are.
Our meeting has already been charted.
Pin pointed on a map with a red flag.
No starting point.
We are the destination.
We are destined.
I am sure.
About.
Us two strangers.
Are we really strangers?
People say when we meet we will know.
Is destiny willed?
Contrary destiny.
Not contrived.
Unclear in your decidedness.
I am completely confused by destiny.
I have not lost sight of you.
Or.
Our place.
I will never call you stranger again.
That is rude.
Hearts don’t need names to communicate.
This is a matter of the heart.
I am sure.
About.
Us two.
The two of us.
Two hearts.
Like wings.
United in direction.
Unconditionally yielding.
Unprovoked promises.
I am not a fan of promises.
They are too easily broken.
Or marred.
Or misinterpreted.
Caught in the wind.
These wings.
Fan me.
Calm me.
My tendencies are hyperactive.
Unknowingly believe.
Without sight.
Should I question what I can’t see?
Why question what I know?
Again.
I am sure.
About.
Us.