Three days again,
    not the same.

Closer now—
   not just in time,
   but in distance.

Flying today,
     a thousand miles erased,
     like the universe is pulling me in

     inch by inch,
     hour by hour.

We’re still us—
      still two halves of the same paradox,
      still opposite in ways

      that make the fit work better.

She chases the burn,
    works her body to the edge.

I chase the build,
    press fingers to keys,

    constructing logic out of air.

She loves(?) the cold…
    or at least—

    somehow exists in it.

I tolerate it only for the things that make cold worth suffering.

And then—
         the biggest difference.

This time,
     I arrive _clean_

     Repaired,
     polished,
     non-toxic.

A new test awaits—
     a kiss that could be
just a kiss, instead of a medical anomaly.

Three days.

No more obstacles.

No more distance.

Just her.

Just me.

Just…
     the waiting—

Almost over.