DNA

I was told I knew you. That struck me as a surprise; I was normally very good with names, and if I'd known it once, I would've known it again.

But it was true; I knew you. I used to know you. I knew you no longer. I would never know you again.

I walked in silence, under streetlights and through smoke rings. Your footsteps faded with the earliest rays of dawn, and I would have to search again.