my bus took a wrong turn today and once again I believed in fate.

due to this mishap, it took me to a parallel street that I haven’t walked down in years. just below the favela, the large avenue extended before me, busy with rush-hour traffic. I crossed amid the cars on a mission… only to find myself at gate 7, the exit where I religiously accompanied you to, night after night, at 10:30 p.m. so home you’d go for the day.

coincidentally, today a mellow, sickeningly sweet melody streamed into my ears through my headphones: a song I don’t seem to know or remember. a powerful memory it brought up, though, as well as goosebumps to my soul, which was already moved.

however, the tree whose trunk I used to be excited to see and to press your body against as I fervently kissed your mouth was, strangely, unlit. a burnout lamp, a blown fuse, I don’t know. all I could see was the bench underneath the heavy canopy of the trees, where we laughed and cried and many times shared hopes, stories and dreams, was also engulfed in the leaves’ shadows, illuminated only by the moon. a sliver of silver shown through the holes, and that was it. I thought it really fitting for the occasion, for just as the path our relationship followed, that little gate that I used to dread seeing (for it meant that we’d have to part ways at last) was also dark.

a security guard standing nearby yawned in his boredom, in slow-motion, as like the years had not really passed, as everything had not really changed – as life was a still of an unchanged past.

little does he know…

I yawned back, by reflex. then followed my way home.


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