This Is Why I Don’t Believe In Time

Today would have been February 29
every other every other year.

One of us may not exist. You are dead
and you are alive. It is not about dichotomies;
we are all things at once, memories of many nows.
Eternity was never a vast stretch of Time,
which is why no one gets bored in Heaven.
After death, each moment is constant,
a mosaic of actuality, so you never cease
being solid aspects of your self. In life,
it is the same: we are already dead,
only it takes thought and labels to reach each
location in our minds. I don’t believe in Time.
I am in love with everyone I have ever loved;
and I am always alone; and I am always
eating black raspberry ice cream
for the first time;
and I am always spending summers
in an old and crowded beach house;
it is always summer; it is always spring;
it is always everyone’s birthday;
I am in love with an ocean.
Prove to me that there was a moment
that existed before this one, and I will stop
loving you years ago. Prove to me that Time
will saunter on in a straight line after your next
breath, or branch into a million perfect universes,
and I will begin to love you once more.
I do not know who you are,
which must mean I never knew you,
or maybe that we all forget the same.

2 responses to “This Is Why I Don’t Believe In Time

  1. I don’t believe in time because Darius Rucker told me not to.

  2. To be fair, that’s where most of my questioning of Time’s existence originated.

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