Ikaevae

I see my friends on San Francisco streets. People from back home, I see you here. Sometimes I know it's not you but I appreciate the similarity in features, gestures, posture. Sometimes it's the way somebody walks. I know that attitude, I'd recognize you anywhere. Sometimes I do a double-take -- hey! -- before I realize it's not you. And elation turns into a kind of a sweet shrug.

I'll see you around.

You and me both, lady.