One day
in the future,
we'll talk. And
then you'll use a
word. Or I will.

Or maybe a phrase.
And it'll cause the other
to frown. A mild
disturbance will cross
my face. Or yours.

Because then we will
know, know that a language
once shared
is now gone. Dead like
Latin.

For as our lives move,
they will move
apart. To a place where
new friends use new words
that old friends
won't understand.

And so it is then
that we will know
it's over. That our
time has passed. The
close become distant.

One day
in the future
we'll talk. But
you won't understand.
Or I won't.

08/19/2008

Posted on 08/21/2008
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