I still owe you

...that poem. The one I promised you, sitting on a park bench. I hate breaking my promises, whether they're still relevant or not.

There may have been an incident where we were both involved..

Perhaps a lovely murder, one they will never solve,

Or maybe I taught you how to fly, swiftly, through the sea,

Or made a well-kept secret, just so it could be.

Perhaps you travelled through the lands of an unknown mind

Although, before this you had seen skeptics of that kind.

We also could have gotten lost in a blooming maze,

Wandered there for centuries, past lives all a haze.

Or simply walked another round, trying to forget,

Passing the first snow that settled, gently, on your cigarette.

We showed each other tangled thoughts, impossible to see through,

Between them, hanging in the air - a drop of nonexistent dew. 

Seems it could have been a story of a childish deed,

But I cannot choose what I want, unless everyone is free.

Forgive me for my bumbling mind, and my naiveté, 

It never was a scam, a joke, or simple irony.

Would that thought have been content to have been left behind,

Spinning 'round in circles, in the back of our minds?