The distance between us
isn’t easy to calculate using
miles or kilometers,
fathoms, or with light-years.
This distance is lively, fragile,
a fluid thing,
the transition between us and our life after us.
Sometimes you’re so far away,
as the farthest, egocentric star
still visible by my modest telescope.
To others, we separated by the warmth of the heart,
by the width of a thin sheet of paper,
the full stop with a pen, and nothing more.
We seem to be moving,
not just through space, but through time.
Did our molecules vibrate at the same frequency
in previous centuries of life?
Were we friends, lovers, strangers?
Do we need to meet again
in a future life in new roles?
Have a new meaning in each other’s lives?
Or we’re always destined
to be slightly in sync,
entering one of the second phases of each other’s orbits?
Never able to exchange
kisses in the passing, or sincere hugs?
Have face to face intense conversation
levitating in our love?
My mind is a strange creature
which tends to think.
Many inconsistencies of my life
in insomnia hours,
when peace and silence pervade
my immediate environment
such as the distance between us.
Especially the distance, the continuous distance,
multiplied by stardust molecules
that you left behind.