On our friendship 

How two souls meet

Without ever meeting bodies-

How two hearts dance to music in rooms

Occupied by each-

Alone. 

How miles can spread between them,

But distance cannot occur

And words cannot falter when one is in silent thought about the other. 
So many things are-

But more should have been-

Except, they say, 

It is all as it should be,

Though they know together, 

That it isn’t. 

Things are things. 

Waiting to change. 

Going unchanged. 

Growing within change. 

But things,

No matter how subtle the change. 

Silence. But never quiet. 

Never without-

Even when gone. 

And always waiting for

That which has always been-

Ever since that moment when souls met without their bodies along to ruin anything-

Or everything, 

As bodies often do.

Just souls. 

And the music of hearts.  

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