The Unknown Room

I walked into a room and did not know it well yet, feel I should, for I have been there many times, not a liminal space, though sometimes this is so. But this time, oddly, somewhere I should know and be. Should I recognize those strange eyes that gape at us? Some duty that I should as duty stares at me. Yet I know them not, nor the paintings in the hall. The not familiar couch where lovers once had lain, its crimson redness gash against the dreary walls. Was this with you, or in some other life I had? Are you even here or I? Truth, I do not know.