How the story ends
perhaps there is a reason that we like blurred photographs,
lines with uncertain endings,
shapes that could be a million things in one
paths that lead to the unknown scare us
but the possibility of crossing them keeps us alive.
perhaps there is a reason that we like unfinished stories,
unsolved mysterious cases,
an incomplete picture of what we know must be a whole
the bright summer sky means comfort
but the infinity beyond holds our dreams.
do not ever tell me how the story ends
i might have already seen it myself.