Sweetness and softness were old friends seldom heard from

Unless,

Your ears are pressed on an old oak door that trails memories in between the grooves

And whispers of words that’s not meant for me or you

Unless,

Your eyes are searching the space between the oak and the floor

To see the room that is hidden mostly except for two measly inches

There you will gaze upon lost Time lazily lying on lonely furniture reminiscing

Of a union rarely listened to