Ron Diorio
The in betweens
It’s a few feet. It’s a million miles. The space between you and me cannot be measured by traditional metrics. It’s like trying to measure the distance between the lyrics of a song; only the singer can calculate that span.
It’s not about distance…how near or far you are. It’s not about time…how long you linger on this bench. The space between you and me is measured by my breath; the molecules I breathe out are the molecules you breathe in. I am around you and in you and when you leave you’ll carry me with you.
You sit on your side of the bench barely aware of me, the stranger whose molecules you breathe. We’ll never talk, and I’m not sure I’d want to. You may never look directly at me, and I’m not sure I’d want you to. When you leave, I’ll slide over to your side of the bench and feel the warmth you’ve left behind. The space between you and me is measured by the moment your warmth ends and mine begins.
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