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Miles Apart
Gaining nothing.
The string of pearls grow.
Each pearl slipping with ease to the end of its path.
Colliding with a light crack against its group member.
Another tear to remember.
Far from its pure white ancestors.
Far from a jewelry to wear.
The path between me and love...
is no whiter than the perfect dove.
The love I once gained had no wings.
It didn't make my heart sing.
As we grow apart,
we go back to the start.
We look for our spark.
A place to leave our mark.
As long as we keep searching,
our lives continue working.
Eventually, the string of pearls will drop.
Everything will stop.
Pearls clattering against the clean, white marble floor.
The sound and sight of hail.
The secret to a new door.
The new sight has set sail.
-Snow that flutters down like feathers