You take the left,

I take the right.

They are indeed separate paths,

yet somewhat parallel,

made of the same substance.

Often times the way gets curvy,

narrow, rocky and full of holes.

I lose you,

I’m focused on trying to get by.

But then, at times, you reappear,

it’s always a brand new start.

You’ve been dodging stones

and killing dragons,

there’s dry blood on your forehead,

rests of splinters in your skin,

hopefully some pleasure too.

Heaven knows it’s not the time.

There’s still some more to carve.

But I’m so happy to, at least,

see you,

showing up from time to time.

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