a week without her went like the water of Ganga, flooding onto your delta plains, the alluvium of memories sandier enough to drain what you had, and none in an instant. you loathed of course. but before it was too late, you set off to find her over the length of the metropolis you'd happened upon. one after the other a new face, each with their configurations. an intruder that you were, pulled out the lockers then, now people. people? who you'd knocked on their back, who did turn but to answer you, they weren't her. or if somehow it turned out to be her, you suspected by the time, was she enough to back you in the people you'd approached? but that they said about a journey, not the destination, where you'd reached, was that an exception?
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exception? dunno!
#lifeofathief love #Questions#Journey#Destination#Relationship#people#yqbaba
