all at once

And all at once I have to wonder if there’s a difference in the madness and the passion, in the cunning and the mights, or if it’s all the same bleak poison that we chug like it’s our right. And all at once I have to wonder about the skin behind your eyelids that you like to watch so much, about if it looks the same as mine or if yours is more abstract, because I’ve come to learn that you don’t see the world in the same grainy way that I seem to, because you’re always asking about the shadows around the stars and the waves that fall out of my fingers as I trace the places your freckles left for winter.

Prompt: recount an interest conversation you have had, or write about some whom you like to converse. What makes this person interesting? What makes this a good conversation?