Pictures stare at me like ghosts
Unrecognizable reflections of ourselves,
that we would always understand,
that we would always know.
We couldn't fathom a separation would ever find us at midnight on a random Tuesday
wondering who we had once been and who we have become
Nothing we ever thought we would be-
Not nearly what we thought we could be-
If only to do it again
But we know the choices sit the same
The eyes the same
The strangers the same
Ghosts,
are all we are,
all we were,
all we became,
all we become.
