There is a fine line that separates them,
Yet keeps them from breaking apart
Conversations are rare;
Dialogues a plenty
Punctuated liberally with
Periods of uncomfortable silence.
They stare at each other
With a look of bewilderment,
Like time travelers from different eras
Living in the present.
The present seems confounding;
The past like a confinement,
Yet, the future holds no promise
It is nothing, but distorted reality.
Image: Clément Massier, via Wikimedia Commons
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