THE FREQUENCY WE LOST

We used to speak in a language made of light,

No sentence finished,

for the thought was known

Before it reached the air.

Through half the night,

We reaped the harvest of the seeds we’d sown

In childhood dreams and fears we dared not name—

The world was wide, and we were much the same.

Now, we trade the weather like a heavy coin,

Tossing "how are yous" across a growing space.

The jagged edges where our lives would join

Have smoothed into a polite and steady pace.

I miss the messy heat of long debates,

The way we’d linger at each other’s eyes.

I miss the "did you see?" and "can you feel?"

I’m searching for the frequency we knew—

The old, loud, honest melody of ours.