She’s a Free Spirit

don’t try to fix me,   she said,   I am not
broken.          we are who we are,   pilgrims all,
on a journey through a narrow valley
running the wonder and horror of it
alone despite often joining others
along our individual odyssey;
while there may be no purpose in meeting,
it may be we’re fated together for now   .  .  .

so we’ve sworn off attachments?          he asks her;
this now   —   and what comes later   .  .  .   up to fate
and what direction we choose to follow;
is that your theory?          she kisses his question
into moot,   tacit   oblivion as they
escape into a now of wordless bliss.


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