Time Machine

I was never a fan of science fiction, fantasy or other worldly ideas or inventions, but I never wanted a time machine more than when I met you. I was convinced you weren’t here for good, here to stay. You did not disappoint, and I was left with an unyielding pining for a craft that would allow me to rewind time, reverse your actions and my words, a metal box that would take me back to when you first noticed I was standing next to you at that concert and invited me over for a drink with your friends, an electrical port that would return me to your sunlit bedroom, sitting on the edge of your mattress and talking about the posters on your dirty walls. While we’re at it, I wouldn’t mind if I had something to freeze time too, so that I could stop everything in that moment, kiss you wholly on the lips without fear that in two months you would never invite me back to spend these days with you again.


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