The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; if there is any reaction, both are transformed. — C.G. Jung
I don’t know where you came from —
a dream I had long ago,
Perhaps we met as travelers do
at a crossroad between destinations.
Maybe on a crowded bus going to
jobs which neither of us loved, or
in a smoke filled bar, waiting for
last call before going home
to our empty beds.
I might have been a servant
in your court, washed your feet
with honeyed goat’s milk.
Or you a courtesan, awarded me
the night before battle
and my warrior’s death.
which no longer matter.
For here we are again,
together — for the first time.