I wonder what may be true
or might come false
in two parallel lines
forged by the same immortal engine
called time.
What we have been and what we will be
both under Democle’s sword
diagonally look each others
but unable to see.
Close, but apart,
in each other’s heart.
Two parallel lines in our heads
and in our beds.
Two doubles that once have met
and won't forget
ascending the lymphs
against all the physics laws
generating ceaselessly travels in the past
talking with worldless kisses
gently touched with invisible caresses.
Still prisoners we wait
to overturn those physics laws
knowing for sure
nothing is impossible in the parallel world.
© Diana Mistera 2010
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