“’…I am not to speak to you,
I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.’”
This poem is quoted in The Red String, Chapter 18, aptly named, “The Stranger.”
I love, love, love this poem. The background of Whitman’s writing of it is a bit risque, but it doesn’t have the same connotation here. That’s the beauty of poetry, of writing. It doesn’t end with the writer, but with the reader.
Hear the full poem- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOuSASiEzSE