Silently you stepped over
to purchase the other side
of the line that had us separated
from all we would rather be.
The game had you roll like a dice.
Unaware of the numbers we were to face.
And the chances slipped from spaces
between our fingers where we held the same.
Belonging to us.
Not you. Not me. It was us.
The key to the lock we have,
now rests on the ocean bed.
“Two is the number now, one is not.”
The Dice tells.
(The Stories beneath the eyes)