by Shawn Allen
It appears there are two of us
our hours and atmospheres are separate,
removed from one another.
Then it happens, again;
you speak the words
I’ve been thinking all day, all my life,
and I am awake and hear them
as they fall from your lips.
I am excited, and scared, and overjoyed.
I do not know this magic,
this instantaneous passing of fire
from one to another outside of place
or time or touch.
Where all that is rational says,
“Be afraid. This is not real,”
my unrational soul knows better
and I hold no fear of this reality.
It feels familiar and I simply surrender.
It appears that we are two,
unique and removed from each other:
then the illusion shatters again.
(c) Shawn D. Allen.