Per sempre, ancora

The moon hangs over the rooftops, as if it accidentally overheard an old conversation and now doesn't know whether to leave or stay. The air is thick with unspoken words, the phone is silent, but memory is still dialling the number. It seems like a separation has happened, but who said it has to end? The world moves on, the red light turns green, people hurry, and inside, it's still the same strange mix of habit and tenderness. There are connections that don't break, but simply slip away, like a breath on glass. No matter how many new roads and tasks there are, there's always a moment when you want to dive back into that very gaze, that very voice. Even if just for a second.