Because the universe is not obligated to tell me of your passing

One moment you will be here
and the next you will be gone.
There is a line somewhere,
as fine as spider’s silk,
that divides a world with you
from a world without.
I am afraid of stepping over
that near-invisible crack
without even noticing,
until I look back
and find it has grown
into a canyon.

Photo by MARIOLA GROBELSKA on Unsplash

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