I thought I knew you, sister
agent of lost touch
though we talk often
we don’t say as much;

a shard of a story
a bullet of news
mystery women
we give what we choose.

The while I grow planted
you tend to wander
with me, the rain
with you, the thunder.

Some nights, a memory
pierces my sleep:
you making me
a promise to keep.

Give me a reason
pass me a line
how did we break
this bridge over time?