The future is an empty space; it has not yet happened.
The past is a collage of choices, scattered with milestones.
The present is our choosing moment – a fluctuating split second.
I do not let my heart wear down with longing – I remember, my love has no limit, no barricade. I do not lament a physical parting; I am alone, my trajectory linearly laid. As I leave behind everything I have grown to call home, it becomes clear, these misunderstood attachments – my home, my heart, my love, lives in me, in eternal detachment.