Launchorasince 2014
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Blindspots

 Bond splits, an anagram for us, 

                  us in Layman's term

                  but not in unparalleled reality

Love, let us now accept 

                  our tear-jerking

                  gut-wrenching fate

I and you will see each other

                 but we'll never meet;

                 we'll vanish before

                 we even collide

No two forces of nature conspire

                 to intertwine our distance,

                 favor such nearness,

                 efface such uncertainty

Distorted as always,

                  disfigured and 

                  deformed as ever, without

Symphonizing nor

                  synchronizing words

                  from finding to fleeing             

Paler than colorless abstract, 

                bluer than blurred melancholy--

                 we are not meant to be!

Only time will tell

                 but this time,

                 from first to final,               

Time is entirely 

                 fading with us,

                 evanescing with the brief

                 encounter of our existence

Strangers forever and always;

                 now split-secondly 

                 dissevering from

                 the space unknown.