Sunday Morning

It is always morning when we met
It is always the same thing that we said
For anything to be recognized as that
It must be it, isn't?
Something that is deeper than any
A relation that last longer than many
Was the beginning that heavy?
If only time can go swiftly
It must be it, isn't?
The constancy is frightening
The viscosity is more than just searing
But if it isn't than is it isn't?
Words are just a medium
Air is floating like a helium
But life wasn't going anywhere
And I was there
And so do you
That's is us.

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