I have conquered the world.
Tokyo, Chicago, Jakarta, Sudan.
Yet, you make shake…
And there you are again.
In echos of friends.
In passing of muted emotions.
Again and again.
Like a metronome.
Like an ever dripping faucet.
I can feel that magnetic pull towards you and I.
The one where distance and time begin to bend.
And I swear, it’s not just the chronic chatter of my mind this time.
It’s the something deeper, something more intrinsic.
Like the call, to identify every star in the sky.