you used to share
only the distance and silence
until one of you decided to break it:

your voices began as awkward pairs
until each found its rhythm and began to dance

you gave tables a reason for its sides,
your gazes lingered and held mirrors
reflecting each other, shared lips
as you kissed the same cup
even rose from the same bed

now, your eyes are naked daggers
quick to gouge any new color and shape
seeking refuge in the pages of memory
every word, every sliver of voice
you once allowed to caress
deep within and between your ears

why is it that two strangers
can perform the miracle of welcome
yet everything between two lovers,
each brick, wood, and stone of the bridge
built in the wake of the broken silence
now lie in fire and ashes, the earth salted,
in the air a certain kind of stillness, a quiet
that makes even darkness weep and bleed?