We're the travellers of hurt
Each in one's own zone.
She resides in the zone of pain
I, in indeterminacy.
If anyhow messages happen,
it travels over light years
or may encounter a black hole
of indifference, of ennui.
We inhabit the same planet though,
pacing up and down
in our own territories,
travelling over the deserts of time;
hoping to find each other around,
thinking, the relations,
like the Earth, go round.
Maybe, we're both trudging
in opposite directions -
and the world does go round
but with an infinite radius.
