[00:28.740]Unread lines stacking up, three dots frozen again[00:30.510]Window open, breeze pulls my sleeve, almost a question[00:39.690]Trying to remember how your laugh sounded last spring[00:41.220]Paper cranes bent, scattered on the kitchen floor[00:54.750]Half- written, then I stop— should I share or just keep this file?[00:57.900]You left your scarf on the back of the bus, week- old ticket inside[01:00.600]So we drift, in opposite corners of one screen[01:01.620]Say we’ ll meet when it feels more right[01:05.070]But I’ m not sure where the distance starts or ends[01:06.180]Could I find you, if I tried?[01:06.690]Bench at our park, splinters through midnight jeans[01:10.830]No sign of your name on the departure list— gate closed, empty seat[01:17.790]I scroll down, land on your old reply[01:20.760]Do we talk less or just say less, and is it the same thing?[01:23.940]Every saved draft, a private diary sent to the cloud[01:25.320]Weather app says rain at eight, you always guessed right[01:26.670]So we drift, in opposite corners of one screen[01:28.050]Say we’ ll meet when it feels more right[01:31.410]But I’ m not sure where the distance starts or ends[01:32.610]Could I find you, if I tried?[01:33.180]Read:" Is this seat taken?"[01:33.960]Unread now it’ s fading[01:35.280]Blurred lines, faded messages, names slipping down my feed[01:37.050]Typing, deleting, words stutter and run[02:02.010]Four unread messages, none from you, none meant to be won[02:18.150]Maybe it’ s just normal to outgrow a shared tune[02:44.430]But sometimes at night I wish you’ d come back into this room[02:49.350]So we drift, in opposite corners of one screen[02:50.370]Say we’ ll meet when it feels more right[02:54.870]But I’ m not sure where the distance starts or ends[02:56.040]Could I find you, if I tried?[03:03.060]Maybe next spring, empty bench, side by side[03:09.120]But for now, we drift apart