In any other world, we would have been lovers
Plucked from the same ripening tree.
If obstructed, we’d have twined our vines about them,
Throttled those who’d deny us our destiny,
Leapt towards the light unrestrained.
Nothing would have prevented the inevitable,
For life itself would have driven us on;
It had to, you see.
In any other world, any other time,
Any other realm but this, we would,
But it isn’t and we aren’t,
And regrets won’t make it so.