No, not love. A committed man, a woman born to be a lost dreamer.
No, not affection. Too complicated a world for such tenderness.
No, not friendship. Too close to the heart for it.
Just a nameless bond.
Names one half known, the other unknown, lives unknown, ideologies unknown.
And yet with every meet that sense of an unbroken continuity.
As if we grew up together enough and yet apart not to sense the other.
And yet it seemed I had met the second soulafter a dead closest one to me since infancy, to be able to sense my self without spelt words.
A nameless bond. Yet one that defined aloneness in a strange no man's land.
A beyond barriers bond. Yet one that made me recognise loneliness when not in company.
Raindrops on a rattling train window catch both the dance of sunlight and of the heart.
A journey that felt incomplete without taking leave of someone. Like some ritual half done. Like some ceremony left unfinished. Like a dream half begun.
So long... forwards train meant leaving nothing behind.
Now, backwards and forwards, the train carried a sense of departure.
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