YOUR STORY
the moment I stepped into
your boudoir, your bower
your magical
room
beyond all rooms
down otherside the main road
way
below the University
due South
of the Mountain
I realized our story
might be wonderful
but we
do not share
the same fairy tale
are of
misplaced and
out of key archetype
as genre goes
along that spectrum at
opposite ends
and yet for an instant that
branching moment of
entanglemen
of which the great
tale of
quantum tells
we looked at each other giddy
with the spectre
of possibility
and yet
not with the power to
rewrite, retell
do that zany, sexy Zarathustra thing
of breaking moulds
redefining all that hitherto
we were
and believed
about ourselves
poems 2 die for 
Beautiful poem Damien 🤝 This poem beautifully captures a fleeting, almost magical connection that exists just outside the bounds of alignment—two people drawn together by possibility but ultimately belonging to different stories. There’s a wistful tension between the “giddy spectre of possibility” and the sobering reality that some molds can’t be broken, no matter how alluring the moment. The imagery—boudoirs, fairy tales, quantum entanglement—blends the mythical and the scientific, suggesting that even in a universe of infinite potential, certain narratives remain fixed. A haunting, bittersweet reflection on what *almost* was.
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Thanks for the lovely comment.
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