These restless nights of fitful sleep, I lay in the darkness of our room. Each little movement a seismic bump shifting our tectonic selves until at last, your stillness and deep breathing let me know that for now you are dormant and at rest.
A child cries out, jolting me awake and I push off the shore of your back.
Each day shifting needs, wants, and desires change the geography of who we are, until no cartographer could map out where we have been or where we are going.
Our lives look so different than what we had mapped out, the unique mantles of our souls change and grow, pushing up, pushing down, and all the while , like the lost and forgotten city of Atlantis, I sit and watch, dreaming of the Ancient Days.
Remembering that despite the vast oceans that separate us, our roots are intertwined, I slide back in bed, pushing up against the cliffs of your arms, pleading for you to remember me, to hold me, and just for a moment, discover Pangaea.