Today we spoke
of parallel universes.
She said she could step into it
with a turn of a door knob
and disappear for hours.
I could see her room
to the last detail,
the window letting in
the fading light of the evening sun,
her paintings glistening on the walls,
even the shape of
the magnets on her fridge.
"I have my bag ready,"
she said excitedly
"even in my sleep."
I could sense the taste of sweet revenge.
I don’t find it strange,
that a person
can be completely
happy
in another
world
which revolves
to one’s wishes;
where every brush stroke
could paint the skies to your hues
(flashing green, neon yellow, aquamarine blue)
and every breath see life renew.
It took me to our own
where life was as calm as the sea…
Conversations, roaring laughter,
music, books, ideas, clashing perspectives
swayed to the tunes of
sea breeze and rain.
I still remember
the day
it all came crashing down
as if in a landslide
leaving us broken and apart
into two hemispheres of a
divided world.
There are times when I pack my bags too.
