Nostalgia

Ouroboros

I
“Am
I your first?” he asks. Half inquisition, and half expectation.
“Everyone
is a first for me.” I respond.
And
somehow, he gets it. He was the first to understand that no two loves were the
same.

II
“I
don’t spend half my day checking for his last-seen-online stamp.”
Not
anymore at least.
I
get it now: “We are victims of a
romanticised
notion of forever”

III
I
am an oasis of past loves
Strangers
before, strangers after
Even
love is subject to the laws of eternal return

IV
I
know of caution when it comes to love.
What
is new, is caution after.
I
must remain on guard to keep him out of Eden after the fall.


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