You don't know me...

... well enough, you said. Don't know you?

I was properly introduced to you in public, and shook your hand.

I know when you were born, how tall you are.

I know where you went to school, what you studied, how you earn a living.

I have been in your workplace, watched you, all serious and focussed, engrossed in your job.

I have met your brothers and their wives, been in their homes.

I have watched as you stood by a friend on his special day, I have stood by you in your own moment of triumph.

I have eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner with you.

I have looked into your eyes as you raised your glass to mine.

I have drunk from your glass, and worn your shirt to bed.

I have spent all night in your arms, feeling your breath on my cheek, listening to your heartbeat.

I have held you as your heart bled, mine bleeding.

Don"t I know you well enough?