Here we are, in the coincidence of life.
On the same ground,
In the same warm air of this side of the world.
Here we are, exchanging sincere glances —
only for you to later exchange outward ones.
Alcohol speaks for itself.
Alcohol holds the courage you lack when sober
and pulls you towards me.
You held someone else,
but your legs touched me
as if to say:
“I want this,
but deep inside — where no one sees —
I want that.”
Your body longs for what you follow.
Your soul stays behind, watching me.
It forces you to touch me,
even when you don’t want to.
As if to say:
“I rule myself,
but I don’t control what I want.”
The drink pulled you towards me,
but you pulled away again and again the next day.
It’s all right.
People cross paths twice in life:
the second time,
either you’ll be ready,
or I’ll be tired of waiting
📝: Me
