Some say it was meant to be.
How do you know when it is?
On days like these, rays beaming, laying in the park.
My head in her lap, sensing the subtle whisps of her breath on my face.
And all is still, yet just as it should be.
And I, then, not able to whither at the moment, lost in the magic of it all. But where would I be now?
I love and am loved by two distinct beings: that of the body and that of the mind. And although they are so close, they do not touch.
So, each keeps its world to itself, scared of what would happen if they collided.
The clash of mind and matter, of brain and spirit, of knowledge and heart.
How can they be so distant yet so near?
She always smiled when she was with me and so did I.
I have no grasp of our past, the present estranged, world of our futures. Can two worlds once united ever be completely separated? I think not.
They are bound together in time like a bushel of roses.
Roses. That’s what she smelled like.
But for all that’s said and done, our story doesn’t end here.
Our paths cross as relentless as the sky turns red.
And every glimpse is like a dagger to my core.
I just lay here and take it all in.
With ease and delight.
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