I can hear the meaning in the silence between your words.
It is only now in that interval between now and that time long ago when you spoke.
You were describing something that someone else was explaining, though you were not the one that was speaking.
Directly, and not through distant communications, you told me of something that shouldn’t exist, or at least should never have been forgotten.
This abstruse message and letter to you is a mirror, in that there is a blank state, where everything that should have ever been was never realized.
I wonder why thoughts of you come back to me again.