One Times One: a poem


Staff Writer

The first time I saw you
didn’t register in my thoughts.
You were some background player,
a personality-free faceless form:
filling space, looking pretty.
The second time I saw you,
you still mattered naught.
You had the gravity of a spectre,
which then became the norm.
It was no real pity.

Around the 500th time we met,
we were still complete strangers.
You were of no importance to me,
And I, just as valuable to you.
We were both content.

The 501st time we met,
Like a hunter ignoring danger,
We fell into a trap unforeseen.
And I, who couldn’t be without you,
regretted the wasted time spent.

Like the soul who split the atom,
With the best intent in mind,
The fallout we’d begotten
Would be most unkind.