The Gulf

 A Gulf of silence separates us from each other.

I stand at one side of the gulf, you at the other.

I cannot see you or hear you, yet know that you are there.

Often I call you by your childish name
And pretend that the echo to my crying is your voice.

How can we bridge the gulf? Never by speech or touch.

Once I thought we might fill it quite up with tears.

Now I want to shatter it with our laughter.

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