We stitched our names into the dark, A double-threaded, quiet spark. Two lives that learned to lean and bend, Believing this would never end. The knot was tight, the tether strong, We sang the same familiar song. We held the weight of wind and rain, And shared the medicine of pain. But iron bends before it splits, And light breaks through the smallest slits. A sudden pull, a sharp descent, The place where grace and patience went. The line snaps back, the pieces fall, With empty echoes down the hall. We were a whole, a single name, Now left to stumble through the frame. Yet in the dust of what we were, Where memories blur and feelings stir, The fracture shows where we were true, I loved the old, I mourn the new.
