We’re strangers; you and I.

Two people devoted to sharing pieces of our day – lives – with each other and yet we’re strangers.

Mismatched but perfectly paired friends who speak with one voice, laugh with reckless abandon and share unifying ills, but we’re still strangers.

Two soldiers of the same cause who battle unspoken wars amongst each
other, where our ruby red, glistening bond is frayed and strained but intact because we’re a family of strangers.

Secret lovers in my eyes but in the depth of your own we’re magnetically pulled in by crimson rivers of identity. So we’re, undoubtedly, strangers.

Hours apart but seconds away from contact; we’re convicted by broken rituals: we speak, we laugh, we share and we leave without having said anything of matter. We’re hopeless strangers.

Now that I’ve been bathed in majestic sheets of gold and yellow as my day dawns and pulls…

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