to be between
two timelines
atop pavement spinning
wheels i once called feet
i’m blurring the lines
stepping on roads that met
my daze in time
and i frolic between two versions—
one that knew, and one that couldn’t
i feel, at times,
i spin in motion
believing emotion burns in memory
you furlong
and i etch these in paint
to blur and mend
i create the version in my mind
that once felt like—
two atop
burning in memory
i can feel it
i can taste it
the scent in moments
the longing in memory
i can feel the distance between then and now
and i wonder if time ever finds you—
here or there—
or if i’m standing in moments
wading and waiting
and maybe time doesn’t find us
maybe it folds
crushing the versions we made
the ones that reached, and the ones that stayed
maybe we’re still spinning—
the pavement, the blur, the ache—
trying to return
to the same second that broke
if time finds you,
does it find me
or the ghost i became
trying to keep