Worlds

Where do you build your worlds?
Upon dusty shelves,
undignified and wasted...
Mine in light of the day,
shrouded in the rain.
Were we friends or enemies
in the former times?
We walked and talked
while the dust was kicked up.
You, making more sense in theory.
I, making more sense in no time.
We were rhythmic, you know?
Fitting like puzzle pieces or melodies.
I only asked to see you smile.
But love is love and loss is loss.
One day you might turn around.
But it's obvious, not today.
My worlds were made
of paper.