one of us is wrong

freedom with love

We were perfect for each other. We just loved imperfection more.

Don’t you find intriguing that another way of saying imperfection is weakness?

We should have resisted it. We didn’t and all our ends came together in a perfect match. For me it was the answer to my questions. For you it was disturbing.

The light of passion turned into a shadow of love.

We fell for each other in a beautiful canvas, one that broke through our night dreams carrying flashes from our unborn story. We felt everything the same way, as if we were two bodies sharing the same heart. We probably still do.

Was it because we were so far away from home?

Maybe we never fell for each other, but only for each other’s truth​. A gospel living in both of us. Our gospel.

Maybe it was a redundance, an artefact or the force of our inferior nature. Maybe it was just another perfect imperfection in the mechanism of the universe.

“Welcome, my love!”

“Good bye, my stranger!”

Or maybe one of us is wrong.