Upon my seat I sit, us drinking from a glass of drink.

We dance dances together underneath the sunny sun.

Your breath breathes into my longing lungs.

We spoke of stories spoken many a times by one’s long before us,

and of stories unspoken for centuries to come.

When we gazed upon the gazes of each other,

I was never to have known what you had known.

That I was never the first to hear those unspoken stories,

Or gaze upon your gaze underneath the sunny sun,

Nor was your breath breathed into only my longful lungs.

How could you rewrite our entire written story,

When I thought it was already written?

For isn’t it only the poisonous who can rewrite the written?