We touch. It feels faintly familiar
Strings of old worlds reach towards me.
Traveling through time, bringing a sense of
belonging. As if within these connective
moments we are reminiscing a long forgotten
life. A long line of moments before this one.
And we’ll find out after. After those endless
stretching moments, that this long line is never
straight. It comes after us, bends around,
seeps through and eventually finds us
again. Like an ever circling ellipse.
Now we wait, longing for what there was.
longing for what always will be.
Following this long line of moments
I travel to some other place, neither in history
nor the future. A non physical world
where separation is non existent.