every past sorrow of my life so far,
excavated from the totality of their meaninglessness,
has become worthwhile
if only for becoming the stepping stones,
across the misty tar-pit-ocean of time,
that have led me to know you in this moment,
even if it's only to be in this moment.

(these words are enough for now,
but they will be forgotten, perhaps slowly,
perhaps tomorrow.
if i find you again,
i will ask for more.
perhaps tomorrow i will find again the shore,
perhaps tomorrow, perhaps nevermore.)