time bender
It was a coincidence, really. The place and time,
and all the strangeness of a perfectly normal meeting between two people
who briefly, incidentally, shared the same space
I am building us a narrative, because how else can I think?
Painting a picture so that - maybe- I will see what the subject is.
Looking for the strokes, perspective, angles and shadows.
You must not judge me if the colors are a little saturated,
if the music seems just a tad too erotic;
the presence of serendipity completely fictitious.
I think I remember what you said, but I know those were not your words.
My heart leapt and I thought how easy it was to slip out of that other world,
-where edges were hard and my heart had bled dry-
and into this explosion of colors, this parade of sounds.
Everything was standing still. We were moving.
I can't be sure,
Perhaps it was the other way around.
How does one ever know?
Time can be bent.
Outside of time there is not responsibility.
If two strangers met yesterday; briefly, incidentally sharing the same space.
- Would it be any different?
Would I?
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