We are strangers again.
Punctuating our presence with long bouts of silence.
There is no dance here.
And my eyes are not overrun by you smile.
That (smile) which used to call, from far within,
a wiggle. (I always looked forward to it)
It is gone.
I have no strength to
fight it back.
I do know even know
from where to.
It’s sad what we are again