you met on a rainy day
bumping into each other at the airport
on the sixth of januaryshe thought nothing of it
except your words stuck in her head
"lo siento," you had said
before rushing awayand so maybe it was fate
that brought you together again
on the eleventh of januaryshe spilled her coffee over your tee
and apologised furiously
rubbing her hands on your chest
that's when she remembered you"lo siento,"she had said
as a smile appeared on your lips
she remembered you"do you believe in destiny?"
the words escaped from her lips
like silk rubbing on bare skin
and you nodded, barely understandingand so maybe it was fate
as if you didn't nod to her question
where would you be now?you exchanged numbers
and this quick meeting
that lasted less than five minutes
changed your lifemaybe it was fate
you waited for her text
and mornings turned to nights
and days turned to weeks
but she didn't contact youit took you a whole week
do you remember?
and on the eighteenth of january
you texted her a simple helloneither of you had wanted
to seem desperate
which is perhaps why it took so long
for you to man up and text heryou thought she wouldn't text back
but she did
and all it read was holawho would have thought
that two one-worded texts
would have caused so much
to happen in your lifeyou certainly didn't
and neither did she
but it did and that was okaybecause sometimes, david
life throws things at us
that we aren't expecting
but you learn to deal with itlike you learned to deal with each other
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nefelibata | de gea
Poetry(n) lit. "cloud walker"; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams, or one who does not obey the conventions of society, literature, or art. - in which the feelings of a dreamer are dismissed by manchester united's goalkeeper. [...