Pretend you didn’t know, for I’m lower than a pup. 

Ignore the infinitesimal odds of that time, that place, 

That hour, that day, 

Once again, worlds colliding. In silence. 

Though it happens again and again and the universe makes it so, though it should stop.

Just a coincidence, meaningless, we say, with cold rationalization to be blown away. 

And it will never matter again, just bad memories. Figments of knowing. 

You weren’t worth knowing anyway.