I remember the day my eyes
first fell upon your pretty face,
but when I looked at you I saw the face
that belonged to my first love,
I called out her name
at you
and it was then that I knew
you were not her, nor was she you.
But you held the same compelling beauty
and a look of innocence she never had.
Your expression told me I was a stranger
and I felt my heart ache for her,
for you.
And so it was
I fell in love with you
while I was living in the memories
Of the times when my heart
was claimed by her.
I do suppose my love is selfish,
but then again,
love always is.