What does it matter,
That we do not know each other's names?
When we pass by, the soft scene is enough to warn my senses that you are nearby.
Oh, and the look in your eyes - so dark and beguiling, rooting my soul to these windows, on the outside looking in.
And your voice, I'd know the silken drape of dark rich tones anywhere...
What I don't know is, how would this voice sound in laughter?
Oh, what does it matter,
That we do not learn of each other's names?
You know my face and I know yours, and by a look and smile,
We know they weigh more than gold spun by identities alone.
I would not address you anyway,
Nor would I hear your lips whispering my name.
But in dreams and thoughts and faraway worlds not meant for us,
I probably knew you by another name, in another time.
What is in a name anyway?
A glass of wine by any other name, would allure as much.
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