Hiraeth

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Photo by Esther Bollen

We only survive in passing glances,
our whispered words fading
We’ve become nothing more
than two souls in waiting,
longing for a time and place,
a sanctuary that no longer exists
We drift in and out,
colliding with the pressing silence
and the deep ache we feel within
We’ve become lost along the way,
like hometown strangers
with no place to call home

Breath of Words© 1/6/17