Brown, faint yellow,
touches of dimmed red;
Earthly!
“I’ve heard everything before.”
(Perhaps before me?)

She is one more map,
map my life again,
again, roads winding
winding through conversations.

What to do?
Grow old and die?
Beginning to end,
end to beginning.

Leave it up to her,
her conversation.
Conversation repeated,
repeated just for her?

Lead the way?
Let her chase me
one more time
back to the origin of real.

She had better be real.
Real is no one way street.
Street-wise a commonality,
commonality uncommon.

Perhaps I’ll fall in love
once again.
Perhaps I’ll be her puppy,
following her always.

Be she earthly,
maybe once,
just once,
I’ll be the sky.