so again, we meet. it is more than chronology but continuance. the moon comes again. the tides come in. i feel as if we have wound tightly around each other longer than we have currently lived. it is before words and after. to glance back without, before i felt. to be mistaken that there was before, drawn backwards. as i breathe in an another life from the back of your neck, i feel the scar near the base of your back. like the first time i felt it: desire maps itself onto hindsight as i looked forward to you. there was no need for revision. it was already there. i saw you and i knew you. it is as if you’ve always been and will be, again. so again, we meet. and again.