Default Settings

We made paper planes
And put our dreams
In a little basket
But we don’t tell the other
We could get used to this
This modern rendition
Of an emotion

We ask questions
But we know the answers already
What’s the point really?
Back and forth
Stuck and yet unstuck
Cut the cord
And burn the bridge

Every metaphor
Put it to use
We don’t do love
We create voids
In each other’s lives
But is this even real?
Or is this illusory

In a crowded street
On a busy day
Will we cross each other
And never greet?
Or will we nod at a familiar face
And replay conversations
And smile in quiet sadness

Will we at the very least
Make false promises of
Meeting and making
Meaningful conversation
And engage in playful banter
Probably even complete
Each other’s sentences

Let’s discard the probabilities
And forgive ourselves
Of all the high hopes
And all that has been said
And all that is in between
And go back to
Default settings

Thought trigger:

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