Time

She said
'tomorrow might never come'
to which I said
'it already has.
It happened yesterday,
along with all those other
thousand year old things,
because today is yesterday
tomorrow'
pronounced with more than a hint
of complacency,
she looked at me
and shook her head,
'You're a postmodernist's dream,
but beware the difference
between art and being'
'Internalized concepts will permeate'
I whispered.
'So I will see you tomorrow?'
'Maybe' I replied, 'or maybe
you will see me yesterday,
or even today tomorrow in a few weeks time'
She smiled,
'we will always have tomorrow'.
'It's over' she suddenly shouted,
and I remember smiling too at first,
but now she is gone
I wonder
what those words really mean,
when time fades inside a whisper,
and yesterday is tomorrow
is today?