I. Twenty Feet
Recognition like a nagging cold
Shivers down the brain.
Brief supposition of who
This is supposed to be
Someone you once knew.
II. Ten Feet
That brown hair,
those brown eyes.
Clarity of face
And disparity of recollection
Asks the question
"Why
Do I know this person?"
III. Two Feet
Suddenly
The mental VCR turns on.
Sophomore year. Economics.
Laughs shared over bread
and circuses.
Names never exchanged
Between prisoners of lecture.
You think it might be Dave.
IV. Minus Two Inches
"Hi, Dave," is still
lodged between your teeth
As you lose the names
Of all the faces
Floating by yearly.