In between these existences, silences and tremulous steps
A thousand many miles, generations and aspirations of a thousand young hearts come
To change, is which comes from within
happening just like that.
To think too much over nothing is different I agree
But how can one make what is what?
The leap of faith not a momentary impulse but something that was meant to be
That I have met you thus
was not an ordinary meeting, but something that my being was moving towards-
every day of its life, in every word it uttered, in every ideal it conjured, in every twitch it muscled, in every part of its growth- was nothing but a movement towards you.
Or, this in itself is a trick of my mind
A ruse to beguile the chances of 'no'
It is a different reflection that I see dancing in the shadows and lights of my prospective days
Am I leaving something behind in a bid to touch her?
or am I here, speaking thus, already a ghost of a memory of what I have come out from?
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