attracts the like

Again he is returned, to pass me on the street, and now as I close my eyes, he is there again.
I was asleep, while his age is more, his talents are more widely spread, his lines beyond my reading.
Back to the dreams, what is this desire?
I know it through and through; I dream and sleep, and then he passes me by like a messenger telling me of things to come.
We are aligned once more after these many slumbering months, alive for a second round, now re-uniting outside of this place, this day I saw him.
Beware of the false streets, say you, and of the older ones who play the game longer than I.
There in the midst of this life and I watching and waiting; now in anticipation for he has returned.
When this flash flood subsides, will I look back on a shared event?

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