Room for Doubt

We sit across--
apart--and it's more than space between us.
That space where several lifetimes were lived
like moving pictures on the silver screen.
Nostalgic-tragic-sentimental.

Arms crossed against your chest,
but even that couldn't stop the piercing words
flying out of my mouth like arrows dipped
in hate, or worse, bright white contempt.
Whatever happened to silent pictures?

There was a time when there was no space.
Just us.
Time, imperceptible, shifting,
like snow, heavy on a branch.
Snap! And something falls

Into something else.
You are no longer the you I knew.
And neither was I.

Buried in the snowdrift, chilled.
I am so cold.

And there you are.
Here we are--sitting
with that space.
In this room, where doubt has thrived.