Just like that, you might have…
I can’t think about it. I can’t not think about it. I can’t push the weight of possibility off my chest. It sits there like an engine block, crushing me with parallel universes of outcomes. You could have died, before I even got to…
Know you? Touch you? Hear your drowsy voice? Whisper gibberish into your skin? Feel you come?
What?
I’m snared in the anticipation of the loss of something I will never have had.
We keep to our sides of the world, of the terminator, bleeding over into each other’s longitudes with sleek digital tongues. The uncanny magic of zeros and ones cleverly organized into letters and numbers and punctuation marks. You are everything to me and words on a screen.
I am paralyzed by the quantumness of you.
01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101110 00100000 01010000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00100000 01100100 01101111 01101110 01011100 00100111 01110100 00100000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101 00101110
Ditto and I won’t. 😉
Muses are great aren’t they? … You are my hero RG.
01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 01101100 01111001 00100000 01110000 01101001 01100101 01100011 01100101
01010100 01101000 01100001 01101110 01101011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101
I love, love, love this, RG! I find it really interesting that certain half-baked relationships can feel both present and impossible, close and very far away at the same time. The paragraph that starts “We keep to our sides of the world…” is brilliant. Thanks.
01001000 01101111 01110111 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110101 01101100 01100100 00100000 01101001 00100000 01110000 01101111 01110011 01110011 01101001 01100010 01101100 01111001 00100000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110111 01101111 01101110 01100100 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00111111