when i was little my mother told me

about a red thread tied around my finger,

a fate dictated by the gods, a soul mapped out

before preferences imprinted my mind,

a string that would lead me to my lover,

regardless of time or place,

that stretches, that tangles, but never breaks.

when i was little my mother told me

i would meet my twin flame:

the dark to my light, the sun to my moon,

the yin to my yang, the cold to my hot,

a complement of mirrors and reflections,

and like the red string of fate,

we were destined in the engraved universe.

when i was little my mother told me

i would meet my soulmate:

an unspoken understanding, a unification, a bound,

a split human sewn up by apollo that yearns

for the other half, the strongest bond

one could ever achieve, powerful enough to conquer kingdoms.

when i was older i got tired of imagining

a red string leading me to my destiny, a finger tied so tight that possibilities were constrained, choices were diminished, free will ceased.

when i was older i got tired of staring into stomachs, searching for flames burning bright,

twin flames of blue and orange flickers, of divine union and even more divine purposes.

when i was older i got tired of stitched soulmates

and cookie cutter expectations, of false realities and undeniable understandings, of not putting faith in love and letting the gods play chess with my life.

and from there, i glided into the sky,

with stars calling my name and galaxies waiting to breathe, meeting halfway on a crossroad,

the whole world available with the shifting of bones.