in search of

i've been finding myself
searching for your face
in every crowd, in every door
on every bus and street
i don't even know your name
and still i've got this
unbridled hope and ball of nerves
sitting home in my stomach
they all ask about the
cuts and bruises, scars and tattoos
no one's seen the blood
under my fingernails yet
lucky since i don't know where it's from
and maybe someday i'll see you
in passing and your words will be
a breeze across dripping sweat shoulders
and maybe you'll tell me to get ready,
the storm's comin.