An older piece about drifting apart. For some reason I wrote this one in English, which must have Seemed To Be A Good Idea At The Time™ or perhaps the fish bowl from a certain Pink Floyd song fit too well, I don't know. I can still remember bits of that dream, though.
A Dream
“Can I?” I asked and you said “I don’t feel so.”
Realizing my fish bowl was about to be moved,
I reached out into the last night of the year
I might see you, swimming in the dark ocean of streets,
searching over and over for our meeting place,
knowing we would part.
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