The
clouds
must be moving
in their own sweet time.

*But who are we
To think that clouds
Have to follow our clocks?

A Thousand-Mile Poem with JAC

I've only ever
lived here
Unless you count
the dozens of
people I've ever called home.

*But then again,
Home
Never
Leaves you.

(A poem over a few thousand miles)
by JAC and JAB

We never age in memories,
But in stories, we do.
Our words mature with us,
So our stories do too.

Our days grow older
And our pages unfold,
Until we become the author
*Living a story untold.

I walked her down to the train
Which I know I shouldn't have
But, see, it was starting to rain
But I know, I shouldn't have.

I just like to watch her walk
And watch her cheeks turn red
Listening to her lovely talk
Even if it's just in my head.

We used to talk
We did, it's true
But now we don't
Which is probably why I'm with you.

I walked you down the subway stairs
Hoping it was us we'd find.
Like I used to, I carried all your cares
Like a train, trailing behind.

We got to the train, and you nodded goodbyes
But as the doors sighed, I stepped inside
You didn't say anything, which was an odd surprise
We used to do this, when in you I'd confide.

We sat in silence
Beside you, I was
It was the closest I'd been to you
Since we ended things, because...
Oh, well.

Searching for something stupid to say,
I muttered, "I don't regret it."
She whispered, "What?" and I looked away.
It was childish, but I let out, "Forget it."

But then I looked back,
And said, "I don't regret us. Even though..."
("Clickety-clack," said the tired train track)
"... Even though we ended like we did, you know."

She looked at me with eyes that said nothing and everything
And the words stumbled off of her tongue,
"I don't either, though I wish I did,
Then it would be easier."

I reached for her hand
(Which was a stupid idea)
But she let her fingers lace
Between mine, in case
I really did let her go.

(A poem over a few thousand miles)
by JAC and JAB

Distance and I can never agree.

We were together, but thousands of miles apart
It was a creation between the both of us
And somehow the words created this "we".

We who are strangers, sharing only words
We who are nervous, for words are our souls
Distance and I can never agree
But distance and words, maybe we'll see.

Bearing words across the world
Souls across the distance
Some stranger seeking peace?
Distance wouldn't know
It never agrees.

Distance is as short as words are instant
When one soul thinks, another waits
Strangers are strangers until they share souls
So is distance just a stranger's mind?

Questions that would linger in the depth of some unsure mind,
Once they were doubts, but now I’ve made them mine.
This stranger is no stranger, well before he met me
But then again, his time wasn't always free.

We all have strangers, that were and were not
always strangers to distance -
So this time, distance's differences aside
Stranger or not, I'll confide.