Everything

Why does it feel like,
That I’ve been places with you; 
Places that I haven’t visited, or even read about. 
Places (both inside and out) that I didn’t even know existed. 

Why does it feel like,  
That I’ve seen your gorgeous smile, 
on nights – brighter than days, 
And, on days – darker than nothingness itself.

Why does it feel like, 
That I’ve walked with you-
The surface of planets still undiscovered. 

That I’ve witnessed – with you by my side-
The exact moment of birth – of civilisations long gone, 
And, the death of ones – a million years into the future.

That we’ve spoken to each other in tongues,
Tongues so potent and musical – that they’d make rivers jump out of their very dams.

Why does it feel this way? 

Is it because we contain – between the two of us- 
What ‘everything; is made of?

Is that why, when you speak to me,
It is always so timely, 
And it is always so timeless. 

I want to know this,
And a time to tell you,
tell you everything;

But then, what does all of this even mean –
When you are Time,
And, you are Everything.

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