ARGO

I’d rather not share so much of myself and return to the place I was again, turning your face towards something which you cannot see. Neither of us can catch each other on which no longer is. I miss when you had already and always bared witness, I never had to reveal myself and you were never closed. You didn’t know you weren’t barred from me when we had forgotten each other on our disparate lines. Only at the point we meet you find out what you had missed. I unravel that which has already finished and crossed its own distance for the time between us now. But there is always more time, not to share what I own alone but that which I couldn’t have in your absence. The space which we meet no longer twist us together. You are to bring yourself to mourn for the other’s supposed absence, travelling back home to arrive where we could never be.