The phone sits heavy, like a stone in my hand,
With jokes only you would understand.
I start to type, then the memory clears,
The static of weeks, the salt of the tears.
We had a map that only we knew,
Of midnight drives and a specific view.
A landmark stands clearly,
but the memory has faded - unluckily,
The world keeps spinning, indifferent and loud,
While I look for your face in every crowd.
and I wish we still can laugh,
at the same jokes we make.
But things are really different now,
And I am happy seeing you now.