Funny how everything between us are just short distances of happenstance, small fibers of fate and coincidence;

Whispers of “what if” and “do it”, quiet screams in the air that if you listened to closely, lays out a sort of secret passage to where I was.

You, sitting on the bench across me, sipping your coffee from the cup while watching people pass through and wonder if someone’s thinking of you;

While here I am, wishing that it would rain, so that you’d snap out of it and sit beside me;

And I would marvel at how such small, fragile threads of magic connect us now; and I remember the red string of fate that I’ve been hearing a lot about but I figure it’s a bit too much;

But yes, threads of magic; our hands brushing up against each other’s; and I point to your cup of coffee and say, “Hey, it’s cold now”

And you laugh at my stupid remark of stating the obvious,

Just like this magic, electric between us,

Turn it on and up so that we burn so much brighter, because we need more miracles in this dreary semblance of a home

And you are a miracle I’ve been praying for,

Though I don’t believe in God, but God, you’ve got me on my knees begging for mercy

Let me taste your coffee-stained lips, rinse, repeat

Light up my mouth. Dear, I don’t smoke but you are probably what nicotine tastes like, leaving me dizzy

Rinse, repeat

Because darling, I’d want nothing more than to collapse in this electric magic of you.


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