Remember me softly.
If we ever meet again, I’ll be a different phase of the moon.
Etched in the clouds and swept away in the sky.
An expansiveness that reminds us how far we come.
A dream of who we use to be.
Pressed so firm.
We grasped between the moments of breathlessness.
A growing restlessness.
The madness of just trying to make it through.
We’d never thought we would live to see the day.
2021 rolling through.