Untitled #2.

I see lives
crossing
In a relative motion
each other;
from the opposite sides
coming closer
intersecting
interacting
and then separating
each going in its direction
with farewells
and slowly growing far apart
faces blurring away
in a poignant realization of time
memory is a photographic time lapse
yet didn’t the clocks stop,
when we interacted?
and cannot you see?
your destination, is my birth
and your history, my destiny?

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