Here we are,
like strangers now,
passing through each other's presence
as if memory where a ghost
too shy to speak.

Like burned out stars,
we still hang in the sky,
visibly but long gone,
a light that only pretends to be real.

Like lost sheep in the flock,
we wander beside each other
without knowing where home is-
or if it ever was.

But with the hands of time
every change the way we feel now?
Can they rewind
what was said
or unsaid,
or soften the distance
that grew in the spaces
between breath and silence?

Will it ever change
the dark clouds above
into a bright blue sky,
or are we meant
to live under overcast hearts,
remembering
what sunlight once felt like?

Here we are.
Still.
Jot together,
not apart.
Just here.