Tell me how deep this boundary is,

Show me how set in stone,

What line is permanent,

Drawn across space and time,

A continuum to a never end,

A tale untold,

This line is not.

Oh, how can conversation grow so cold,

How can your words be so empty,

You said we’d stay in touch,

Though we can’t touch,

But here I am,

Waiting,

And not a word,

Nothing much,

And it seems this line is,

Permanent,

Expanded to fill space and time,

And leaves me with the smallest room for my feet,

So that I can’t move,

Or bend,

I can only wait,

Or walk away.