We started running circles as we had done
in the years before the green and hazel met.
In the moments of our crisis we prayed silently
to a god that neither of us believed existed.
We kept our dreams and wishes apart from
the fate in which we fought so hard against.
Our chances of lasting through state lines
and many days of absence were slim to
none, we knew this. And yet, we placed
everything on the table for the next round
and hoped the bridge would never burn.
We could have spent the rest of our lives
trying to figure out which turn was wrong
and which one was right,
or who we were,
or who we loved,
or what was real.