The Time Travelerâs Daydream by Kyle Bryan T. Palparan Sometimes, I close my eyes and paint your face as I ripple through a wormhole of memories. You would tell me how time would never lose the aching we yearn forâ that we were born to fight through the paradox of the world if it meant loving each other completely. But you were wrongâ shifting the truth in my reality. Still, maybe weâll meet once more, in a different destination, where I wonât need a time machine to fly back into your arms. After all, Iâd rather run through a million timelines than wait in a time where we will no longer dream of each other.
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