I can promise you this moment

I can promise you this moment,
I can promise you this now,
all the other times are lies,
the tomorrows, never come.

But what if I die in this now minute,
but I don’t really want to die?
Maybe, if needed I’ll transform,
but I don’t really want to die.

What about the future,
kids, grand-kids, homes,
mortgages and cars?
What about going to Hawaii?

It’s not that I don’t want to,
but what is wrong then with the now?
If it is now that we are together,
why can’t we live then, in the now?

And now you are gone,
you run some errands,
taking a blurry-gloomy past,
made of past glories,
disappointments,
hurtful words, not many hugs.

But past is gone,
and then the future
doesn’t seem to want to arrive.
And I suspect you know inside you,
the lying, chameleonic, bastard, future,
it shall never it arrive.

We are trapped in these bodies,
and this illusion of time,
made out of moving stars and planets,
orbiting constantly,
eternally.
While we sit and watch them dance,
immovable we are in time.

Time: Are you the accuser,
the one that stings us through our lives?
Waking up through childhood,
not wanting to sleep later at night,
you are always present,
not realizing?
The only place is now.

We move in these bodies,
walking along each other.
Sometimes we are close together,
but ages or miles apart.
Some of us in the dark ages.
Some lost in the labyrinths of the mind.

But this moment, this one is real,
I can testify to that.
May that we argue,
souls stirred in discomfort,
as hormone driven teenage bodies,
the soul stretches, then awakens.

I can promise you this moment:
That I will touch you with my eyes,
as I remain in this present,
because we both are choosing now.

As the distance is now closing,
and reality is in now.
Your words linger in the ether,
while we share this moment, now.