she was nine, he was on tv, she’s fifteen, he was already on his own, then twenty twenty one, he was old before his time, “where did you guys meet?”
I don’t know I don’t know walmart, maybe, at midnight, he ran out of pop tarts, but he said at a party in London, too much gaps in
what we’re saying. yes but I have no sense of time and space. I meant we. we’re just good that way. of forgetting. of forgiving again. it’s toxic, I know, this infatuation
don’t look. don’t look where we are. we are too old now. we are stale
from same old stories. “fame tore them apart,” …not true, not true!
he wakes up then decades sprawling across and in and out of his bedroom walls
she grows fonder of distance, she took a step one day and has been running eversince. “what an unstoppable force she is!” was. was.
he wants her to wait but never quite saying it right. she keeps running and she lets him watch how far how fast her steps could go how her jaw her fist clenched. she’s got no time to spare, “but she has no sense of time,” he was so young, “but he was old before his time.”
You don’t know my name. This is the past. And us is just a butterfly effect that didn’t happen. We are apart and at peace, just as before your eyes met mine, before our hands brushed and our words hushed. Before our secrets born into judging eyes. This is before everything.
And I am telling you this so you will search for me no more.
These were the nights when gaps spotted in our time loop and father came back to us.
He’d travelled to stay for few days, playing house. Mother’s smiles reappeared and she’d dance under the moonlight.
At night I would see from a slit on the door slightly ajar, his eyes turning tender and kind, her complexion radiant.
I’d see them holding each other, her breasts upon his chest. He’d tell her places he’s afraid of, she’d tell him her dreams.
She’d say, “Wherever you are in life you’ll always have tonight.”
They’d look each other in the eyes and after a while she’d lead him but she’d be the only one who was dancing. She’d twirl to the ticking clock, she’d circle through time while he was drinking –one gulp after another, gazing intently at her –a much younger her, at their younger selves.
He’d hum her old letters he knew by heart with a voice barely heard.
Time would stop and in that second I’d know, wherever I am in life I’ll have them forever in my heart.