I was so caught in silver afternoon trance that I thought I can understand all-contained unspoken thoughts of yours before it comes from those pink slippers lips, perhaps I could grasp it from the hazel eyes of yours, but I didn’t, not really. The halves that I understood was only the smudginess of your kohl and semi-precious eagerness of yours that halved me into half. I didn’t realize, I didn’t know that two paths diverged in those mirror utopia, with nothing but the visible spectrum of in-between bits, towards the memory of whole bits of you and gory bits of me.
