Ripples

What if Time was just a servant to the Rules,

and twisted Fate by usurping

souls long passed

by sifting through their Histories,

like fingers sifting through sand,

picking out what they missed the most from

us, Precious Moments;

eyes the color of seed,

hair that kinked like heavy stems,

lips that drew smiles crookedly,

almond shaped eyes,

moles that drew across tanned skin like constellations-

what if Time-

mourned too -

and wanted to visit old friends?

Maybe they are just strangers to us, drifters in the grocery store,

the elbows you brush past through life,

but maybe,

they are souls that will never end.

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Art by Egor Shapovalov, found on Pinterest.