The distance between me and you is unbalanced and unequal,
as far as our time together last summer, I doubt there'll be a sequal,
is it age that seperates us, or does maturity set the level,
and if these things depart us, what incriments decide the measure,
you with the giggles and a smile that expresses it more,
me, I have my stern look that hooks those who deplore,

what was it that saw fit to close the summer we shared,
each individual parting ways as if none of us cared,
now, only one connection remains between you and I,
through a mutual friend who's affection I accept with my pride,
but still the gap, an emptiness, that awkwardly clutters,
that ends the relationship between you and I like shutters,

so I ask you Jotoy, what remains left is very little,
but I ask you, do you have the glue that can repair the still brittle?,
you are a friend that I once trusted, and seeked for some advice,
but though I am taken, this connection can suffice,
so I recite the latter question, are repairs a solemn suggestion,
or does my mind create a deception that you would give a warm reception//

end