we are all things, but not

Once you told me that we were both cats, in another life. With your head resting on my shoulder, I believe you. One day, you told me that I could have been a queen, which is something you have repeated many times since. You said that I have a look. “What ‘look’?” “Just a vibe.” You called yourself a king, and then a commoner, you also said that you were enlightened. I believe you. Once, I said, “no, I am not a queen.” I am a sage, or a wizard, a hermit, an aesthete, ascetic and then you insist that I must have been bourgeois. I don’t believe in the universe putting two together because it’s complete bullshit because ‘the one’ isn’t made, it is a choice but then you tell me that I am you and you are me and that we are one and I believe you.

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