Star-crossed: No, my eyes are not prismatic enough. Time is very rigid even as it recurs. A liquid fills its container but goes no further. Somehow we are too separate.
Patient: A ray and a disarray. My eyes are not telescopic enough. Experience itself is unsubstantial. My body is not a liquid.
Star-crossed: Even so, we have the metaphor of the elements. Even you must understand, or were we really so dissimilar?
Patient: I understand, but I am not an alchemist, nor even a mystic. Even my poetry is selfish.
Star-crossed: However selfish, it is chaotic enough. It is turbulent like a desert storm.
Patient: The sands swirl about a binding obelisk, black and regal.
Star-crossed: The sands themselves obscure it, and wear it away.
Patient: No, but not its influence. It would still be “tilting at windmills” if the windmills were themselves illusory. What is an illusion without an expectation?
Star-crossed: I only expect persistency. Or, without illusion, I don’t.
Patient: It’s over, then?
Star-crossed: No, my eyes are not telescopic enough. Maybe it’s over, and maybe not.
Patient: A play and a display. My eyes are not prismatic enough. I am not really over it. I do experience myself especially.
Star-crossed: Even so, we have more options by recognizing the inversion. Even you must understand, or were we really so similar?
Patient: I don’t understand, but I am dissatisfied, even disillusioned. Even my thoughts flee from themselves.
Star-crossed: However you flee, you will get away unless you go in circles. You don’t need a compass if you remember where you’ve been.
Patient: I’m afraid I’ll end up somewhere without you, and miss you severely.
Star-crossed: You will flee from even that fear, and from that severity.
Patient: No, but not its influence. It would still be “never again” if again and again were similar recurrences. What is a recurrence without an epitome?
Star-crossed: I only epitomize myself. Or, without recurrence, I don’t.
Patient: It’s over, then?