This is where I’ll paint my introduction,
after rain has stained a dull mirror
below dancing reflections,
after every renewal.
Do not promise me “always”
because it is a word you cannot keep
and when I finally take flight
with my paper plane dreams
I’ll pilot my unsettled decisions
away from skies that felt like weight
burdened upon shoulders.
I can’t give you much,
only slices of a story in completion,
an inconsistent truth,
an uncertain attempt
to extract “never” from our dividing borders.
Do not promise me the stars,
skies half-blemished with illusions,
They are so beautiful but-
it takes light generations to reach our planet,
that they would have long lingered into the past.
I’m no longer searching for you
in places that don’t exist anymore.
This is where I’ll set my goodbyes,
hand over apologies like I still owe you something.
I’ll craft myself another cycle.
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