Not in this world…. This puzzle is mingled and incomplete.
Each element is captive in a different fractal.
And she’s lost, and a traveler.
Her eyes were caressing your fingers
I, somehow, retrieved a mental blurred image of her lips doing it so many times before... your hands were smelling of leather and dust.
Your neck and smile linked to her deleted memories of sharp metal and torrid sun, dust and white flowers of spring…
All that remained in that seashelled fractal, far white, blanked, cold, still sharp.
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