And it’s just
crack.
It’s always this
crack sound.
You’re just one
crack
on my broken window.
And you’re cracking away at my feet.
Your cobble stone path is laid up one brick short.
The glass thins out and it’s once again
liquid paper
that stands between us,
a single strand of hope lacing around our fingertips.
The flame in our hearts outs fast by the rough waves that beat at the shore.
I’m sure
you’re just one breath away
from screaming:
“I’m sorry.”