Lost Souls

How weird is this connection between the souls , where one yearns for togetherness, companionship flavoured with our innate senses. How is it that a soul knows none , no calendar, no alarm, neither the notion of distance or time , how it just culminates based on how it feels in the presence of the other soul that nourishes its being and how its knows only the anxiety of absence

SHE ...

"...the coffee was cold , mine tasted better , was the proportion correct for his taste ?. At the very moment when he inhaled deep I could here him , does he have a cold , was suggesting a cold coffee , a good idea amidst changing climate and drive past midnight ? , as he dropped me back home the hug felt good , warm , so familiar yet unknown, was it for me or just to prank our dog ? , perhaps fiddling with my fingers was for me or was it to avoid me pestering about the same later ? "
All of these questions are like conversations between bits of her soul.
As she tries to reconcile all that is lost once again, the murmur between the bits of soul continues , all the conversation gravitates her to abyss where a loud voice raises one more question , " why is it when we say goodnight, it sounds like goodbye ? "

Perhaps Khalil Gibran rightly quoted - Between what is said and not meant , And what is meant but not said , Most of the Love is lost.

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