A drift moves by and the curtains, how they part in the breeze.
I take it in, you shift your legs, crossed at an angle of degrees. Looking down, hands move to neck, the pause of uncertainty. I read things slowly, my eyes glazed over, I watch, you listen. Sometimes it feels repeated, basic human interactions. I stifle yawning, softly laughing at the most unbearably over distinguished chapters. You raise your head, as I do mine, in synchronization, lost in time. There are whispers here, only yours and mine, moments drifting back. Watch as everything fades away, the faint remembrance of yesterday.
