So this is what happens here. The things that are said and done will leave traces on these moments and hang them up there in history with these stains we have left on them blowing in the breezes that twist and turn down these convoluted corridors of our intertwined histories.
It would seem so simple to take just one act that involves just the two of us, two out of billions living and dying on this planet all around us. This should mean that anything we did together, these moments stolen from our lives in some anonymous room in the heart of nowhere should seem to exist out of time, beyond anyone else’ touch or even knowledge.
Things are never simple though. All our lives twist and turn together like the strands in some thick rope of living. We can no more be alone than one thread can bear the weight of these days we live through. Our lives tangle with others and they know and feel that something somewhere is attempting to untangle a couple of thread out from what binds us all together.
So we both sit, far away from each other. Each watching almost uncomprehending as lives unravel around us and the threads get weakened broken and torn, as those few stolen moments taken from our lives cut through everything holding us together and we fall forever like some nightmare that isn’t ever going to end.
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