Clumsy

A few months pass
Like days in my mind
And when I catch sight of you
It is as though we were never apart.

But we were
And still are -

A part
Of something
We want nothing to do with.

A part
Of emptiness
That we try to grasp.

But how do you grab hold of air?

We cross the room
To reach each other
Only to find
That we have nothing to say.

The conversation stumbles
Over niceties
That sound awkward, said to you
And we are clumsy
In this -
Our future.

Once inseparable
Now left to labels
Of friendship
That do not fit
Like clothing
We have outgrown.

And still we stand
With morbid fascination
Pouring salt on an open wound.

And it hurts
This gaping hollow
That surrounds us
In this -
Our reunion.