Drastic

Behind those smiles we gift each other when we're glutted with spaces, there are miracles stuffed with shared mornings, waiting behind some tree for the sun to be sun again, biting their nails while promising never again to discover the essence of the echo. Someday, perhaps, they will be remembered with gazes, or forgotten just the same, they will be forged by whims or invoked by needs, they will be firm if they become pillars and weak if they hide behind their past. Behind the words that travel through time, the random emotions that more than once left us in silence remain immersed and dancing; with their pride across the sky, with love beyond, they will watch us from within, sketching grimaces as painful as the memory that only fires resentment.