There is a growing conspiracy
Of the thought of you and me
Throwing me in these allusions
Of the things I used to flee.

My thoughts on the matter are
Wrapped around the cliche of time
That spill out endless possibilities
Beyond chances, words and rhyme.

Maybe this time,
I won’t be as unreasonable
Maybe this time,
You’ll prove more endearing
Maybe this time,
We’ll be ready for
The promise of us.