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hey if the stars were aligned

in ascending order of righteousness,

and if my birth chart wasn’t a nightmare,

do you think we could hold hands

and gaze up at them?

maybe kiss a little?

and hey

if i were squeezed out through the vagina again

and plonked into the hands of fortune,

do you think maybe we could plan things together?

maybe even dream of it?

Rumi said that there is a meadow

where a meeting is destined,

i wonder if that place is meant for us.

oh but wait,

excuse me sir,

in this meadow,

is the grass mowed evenly?

is there a clean place to sit?

will there be time for us at all?

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It’s so strange that the people I’m most comfortable with also make me feel like they’re going to go away from me at any given moment. They make time feel like a vortex that they like to edge closer and closer to just to keep me on my toes, no, to keep my heart pounding in my mouth. It’s an existential game. “How Long Will It Be Until She Stops Dreading?”