A Few Short Words

Dense Not Thick




I found myself looking at me and the voice in my head said, I love you. It took a minute to realise I wasn’t talking to you and another to assimilate the shock. I’ve never said it to myself. I never knew I could or that if I did I might mean it. I said it again just to check and wept. I love you. I sat and wondered. Did I come across this myself or did you give me the key? Which thread of fate was wandered and was it alone or did we walk a similar road?


I wonder what I’m supposed to be some times. A sin eater? A catalyst? Collateral damage? Is it one of those perception things, a parallax error where life doesn’t line up for us because we see it from different angles and they’ll always be at odds? I wonder what that means I am some times. The glass? The water? The waiter? Is it one of those preconception things, a baked-in behaviour as over cooked as this analogy? I wonder what I should say some times. I am, I am not, I may be? Yes, no, maybe? I wonder?

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