It was real. The places parallel.

Lovers held in arms. Sweet tender.

Lovely hair. Always choices, multiple.

As you approach the eye of the needle, the choices dwindle. Only regrets and lashing out.

At the eye, only you and none other. Where it is you go was never determined.

My hearts races on such thoughts like the mild summer breeze coming through the window. Less tender, lonely agreeing with uncertainty. It is real. It will be real. Roxy and Kim.