Estranged

Life’s strangeness is not “Why are we here?”
Nor gripping a stone on the beach,
dull and glazed with watery texture,
wondering how what is solid
is so slippery.
The absolutely absurd also
escapes analysis;
we know it to be life.

Our difficulty is in the trying.
A sign of love exchanged by two –
nervous, afraid, seeking affirmation –
and only hearing the sound of silence,
the pale, fluorescent library light
vaguely recalling the moon.

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