it's been years, hasn't it?
long strange years, for us.
it's so cute how all
these things have twisted themselves around
peeked into Chronos' mirror
and startled themselves (and us)
different in our entirety
and how --
not that different at all.
I walk (timidly still) through a
and make a one-ninety turn
I know I'm forever this sixteen-year-old thing
and when it all comes clear in the sheer morning light
(playing in my eyes like a child)
there's your face, your smile!
and there's my smile, too.
that I had no reason to fear
in the end, it's all just Time
we are the ones who pull one over Time.
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