Nowhere, but we are here now

Nothing to do.

No one to see,

and where are we?

No where,

but we are here now.

Now?

That is such a fleeting 

time.

Is it a second

or a thought?

Perhaps a kiss

or a wink,

maybe even a slap

or a shot.

What now?

I've woken up with

that saying

scribbled 

on my

fore arm

too many

times.

What now?

But, what is now?

I'm not sure,

but I think it

may be the

beating of

our broken

hearts.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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