There’s a light across the street that no one ever turns off. I watch it through the glass and wonder who is awake. Tonight I found myself humming something I don’t remember learning. Four notes. Then another four. And somehow they sounded like you. There is a boat beyond the shore with one small light against the dark. I watch it come and go without arriving. Tonight I found myself singing something I don’t remember knowing. Four notes. Then another four. And somehow they sounded like home. Maybe memory has its own music. Maybe distance has its own key. Maybe somewhere— someone is breathing— at exactly— the same time as me. Somewhere, the same song is playing. Somewhere, the same night is falling. I don’t know where you are. I don’t know who you’ve become. But something still moves through us that neither time nor leaving could undo. If you can hear this— don’t answer. Just stay wherever you are until the song is through. I kept the window open though the night was cold. For one impossible second I thought the air had changed. I stood beside the water though the wind was cold. For one impossible second I thought I heard my name. We don’t need to find each other. Not tonight. We don’t need to change the ending. Not tonight. Let there be one thing the world couldn’t separate. One melody. One breath. One moment belonging to us both. Somewhere, the same song is playing. Somewhere, the same heart is remembering. I still don’t know where you are. You still don’t know I’m here. But for these few minutes distance has forgotten how to keep us apart. So sing. I’ll sing too. Not to bring you back. Not to make you mine. Only because somewhere— under the same night— you remembered the same song. Maybe you heard it. [Female, from far away] Maybe you did too. Mm— mm— mm— mm—
