That it all began,
With two versions of one choice.
Branching off into the eternities forever after,
An endless flowing of time.
That for every choice you make in this -your reality-
You made the other in a different one.
I think, that sometimes,
When I am unshakably silent,
And I listen,
I can hear the noise from the other side,
Mingling with my silent one.
And when my world is loud,
Sometimes I can feel the quiet of that other place,
As tangible as my hand on yours.
In moments of spectacular clarity,
I catch sight of it altogether.
One cohesive piece,
Like two artists’ renditions of the same individual,
So similar to my own,
Yet still somehow so different.