I was searching but didn’t know for who. In your eyes, there was something I had lost. You spoke and something in me started moving. I didn’t understand, but I answered. There was a line between you and me. No one could see it — but it was there. You were you before you even arrived. I was me before I understood. We said everything before we spoke. You looked at me like a beautiful mistake. With respect. With fear. With something left behind. I smiled, but I didn’t know if it was a beginning or an ending. I would’ve known you even in the dark. You were you before you even arrived. I was me before I understood. We said everything before we spoke. What if it was never you? What if I was never me? What remains of something that begins outside of time?
