What I Am, Who You Are

Am I one of a million?

Or a million of one?
The difference is trivial, they say.

We met once.
By another mundane mistake.
I am an atheist.
Predestination is flawed theology.
Is it?

Questions are overwhelming-
Curious little gentlemen.
Polite and mechanical,
Yet each one so unique.
Like you.
And me?

Through hypothetical reasoning,
I developed the idea.
An innocent trimming, perhaps,
But a coddled one.

We travel by bus at the rise of midnight.
Limber critters anxious for youth-
For something new.

And there it is.
An oasis developed little by little,
Now a tranquil haven.
I don't recognize a soul,
For this is Somewhere Else.

The homage now a memory,
The journey now complete.
I know now of my differentials,
And they belong solely...
...to me?

Another question once more,
Over a daily swift cup of lemon tea.
With you I share it with,
And there they are.

A million of me.

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Many wonder the purpose of these muses: what do they imply?

Nothing, perhaps.

But everything, nevertheless.