Serendipity

Dark, almost ten in the evening,
the sound of passing cars on the autobahn
dirtying the artificial light of a monitor.

I can still smell vanilla,
perspiration and humors
like if you never left.

The sound of a passing tram,
down below,
reminding me of duties
I imposed to myself
in the name of achievements.

And all I feel is the distance,
tugging,
like an overstretched umbilical cord,
aching, the pull already too hard to fathom.

How, on earth, skies and depths,
did I manage to latch on to you
like so?

Most importantly,
how did you?

Answers I may one day find,
if only you were to stay
close,
if you only were not to ever take myself away from myself.

Serendipity finally here,
there with your hugs
I miss the moment they stop.