It lingers for a while each time we meet, wrapping us both in coats of recognition. You may not know how tender your manner is, or may not wish to act upon it. Once we part those alternatives stare at me, teasing. Until I forget.
But everything stops, briefly, as we’re there without any favorable aims in sight, allowing us to return to where we left off.
Moments stolen from decay are infused with comradery and recognition. Like a phoenix, our momentum glides between reality and dreams, touching on peaks of being alive and affairs that don’t even exist.