Always

In circles there is no beginning and no end; only an edge. With a sphere, there isn't even that. This is how I think of time. Always, we have been. Always, we will be. Always the world and the stars and the water and the skies. Always the ash and the trees. Always the stamp of your lips on my skin, and always the puff of cold breath in the air. Always the peal of children's laughter, and always the tears of a broken heart. Nothing comes or goes; things only move along the infinite paths of the surface of the orb. Back and forth, but never beginning or end. Only always.