in every time zone, it would always be the blue hour
in which I loved you. It still is. The literal
lightning bolt lodged in your family tree. The erased
surname. The alibi bone placed inside you.
A secret takes on a shape beyond language, becomes
tangible, something potentially broken
in half, for the world to see and give words to.
- from Jeffrey McDaniel's Meeropol
Sometimes it just hits me, how I miss certain things and certain people. How different my life would have been if we had moved to Singapore like we had planned or if I had stayed in Hanoi on that strange whim that still haunts me from time to time. Would I still find myself sipping coffee at the What If Cafe of my thoughts, waiting for someone to arrive to tell me about his day? Oh, the stories we would share.
No comments:
Post a Comment