at the moment we met, our lives collided. two raindrops that ran & burst together. when i kissed you, you threw away the key to your apartment and i carried your suitcase home. when it rained, i was your indoors. and when the storm battered the windows, you sewed fairytales into the seams of true stories.

before long, we were as old as the stars. i could remember inventing time with you: we'd debated the hourglass - you liked that time could be measured, i wanted time to be infinite. our history was convoluted. when we traced our footsteps, we found evolution came about because of an over-zealous game of telephone we'd had. we felt a bit awkward about the duck-billed platypus for a while. or at least i had - you were pre-occupied with re-designing the universe.

you spent a long while perfecting the supernova. i didn't know if i could trust someone who made even death look so beautiful. you told me everything was resilient, energy was finite. it was only death if you perceived it that way. i sighed and thought about the dodo. i thought about your house plants. it had stopped raining, the wind was warm, the sun was rising, so i told you it was time to go home. you agreed that was for the best - perhaps someone who couldn't see the benefits of black holes couldn't have your best interests at heart.

i watched you walk away, cutting through the park. then i went to wash my face in the sink. we were lucky to have been brought together, even for such a brief time. how would the earth work if we hadn't fathomed fire? if we hadn't calculated gravity over milkshakes at midnight? i looked up at the mirror. i traced the lines at the corners of my eyes. i had our story etched on my face. not everything was resilient, like you said. ageing could not be reversed. wrinkles had been my idea, so i could never forget you. though even without them, i was sure i could never forget you.