My left, his Right.

One was the beginning,
The other,the end.
They met somewhere in between,
Somewhere,where the street bends.
Not a tinge of akwardness,
No opaque surfaces.
Just the pristine mirror,
Just the unmasked faces.
Love,passion and admiration guided them.
Angels and cherubs talked about their love.
They were amazed,
For they didn’t drink any potions,
Nor were they struck with any darts.
They loved,just with their hearts.
Sometimes they got lost.
But always found each other.
When they were bewildered,
They found comfort in each other’s answers.
They had been together since I don’t know when.
They were thieves and philosophers,estorics and pagans.
They were lovers.
And they were friends.
Talking and listening,
That’s what they did.
When words failed them,
They listened to heartbeats.
So much told,
So much more to tell.
This is a never-ending story,
Cos their journey won’t end.
The only difference is ,
My left is his right.
I live in the ‘upside down’ world.
But he is no Alice,
He can’t cross the line.
The line dividing the two worlds,
Between sanity and insanity,
The fixed and the moving,
The virtual and the real.
So I stand here,
And he on the other side
Happy,to see one in other’s reflection,
Happy,to have loved.
Sometimes I feel I live in an illusion,
then I go to the mirror,
And see him,smiling at me,
That clears all my trepidations.