Separate

My baby is gone
She is out on adventure
But, oh not fair

without ME

she's seeing mountains and breathing air, thin with altitude

without ME

I can't test it first
Put my toe in and then say - yeah, be where I was. I been a lot of places, babe - you go there, too.

I know she is separate, original, parallel to me, not exact.

And yet, she is part of my soul. A part I don't know as much about as she does, a balance of my usual, the rest of her pulling
pieces from outside me that I will like, that I will recognize because

it is translated by her.


That is relation, kin, blood.

Somewhere she breathes with a portion of my breath.

There is a holy and sacred part of me that belongs only to my parents.....and sisters, the separate part of me from her, hidden by time.

I cling to my old self, innermost core, like a raft on an endless sea.

We used to ride in the car together. I'd drive and we'd share music and singing. Her voice a richer echo of my own, both of us akin, alike, so close beneath the skin.

I can't wait to hear about her life without me......if she will tell me. Like a child under the covers and ready for sleep, tell me the stories of your time apart from me.

What were the skies like, the air? Did you see something, smell something and think, "if I sense deep enough, she will too."

Do you carry me with you invisible, kindred?