I sink my hands into this damp soil

Where we grew up so long ago

Our conversation neutral with the weather never improving

There were always stones in our shoes

Reminders of an influenced mumble

Or an approaching stumble

You carried me,

Mid flight, soaring through a mist of uncertainty

You covered our mouths so…

There was nothing left to do but touch without sound

All we ever do is

Fall without ground

We are confused mountains

Tall with no character

With the brush of a shoulder

I may lift a boulder

And mend this rift between us