Is it time travel when someone
I used to love nearly lands in my
lap during morning meditation?
Unlike a dream—which takes place
on another plane—this is a real
intrusion. I dismiss him. How
did I ever stand the way he made
me feel not quite good enough?
And what triggered this visit?
I can think of nothing—except
the thought of travel itself.
I am in an airplane—on my
way somewhere. Our paths
could cross— have crossed—
too many times.
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