
We two are indivisible, seamless, the same. Two hearts. Two minds. One reason for being. At least, this is what I tell myself each day, as I pray to your form on this polished glass divide. Here, where the rain cannot touch us, and the stars never shine, we exist. In this in-between, we share our moments and span such time as can be recounted. Time! Oh, Time, how you betray us.
We two writhe when apart. We list like hamstrung battleships. There is no noticeable us then, though we still move together, breathe together, live in the same sacred space. Time reaches for us, but its intangible fingers can no more grasp our thoughts than we can. We are the dreamers, Time, not you. More, soon we shall wake and see each other, whilst you shall see only the past. Take that, Time! Yes, take that.
Indivisible, or so I claim. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, but we both bake. Fingers will point and tongues will wag. This is our doom. But we shall close our eyes and ears to the world. We shall brush aside the glass. Then there will be no dream, and time shall not matter. You will be there. So will I.
Thank you for reading
Richard






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