Sarah's "strangers" describes a moment that changes everything without any noise. The poem opens on "and suddenly," as if something has just happened, though we never learn what. Maybe it's an argument, a look, or a realization. What we get is the aftermath: time stops, and everything goes quiet.
That silence is the heart of the poem. It feels like the pause after something breaks, when nobody knows what to say. Then comes the quiet blow of the last lines: "we were strangers / again." The word "again" is what stings. It suggests the two people were strangers once, grew close, and have now slipped back to where they began. The speaker doesn't shout or blame anyone. The tone is flat, almost numb, as though the loss is too big to react to loudly.
The short lines and lack of punctuation add to this. The poem moves quickly and then drops off, leaving the reader in the same stunned silence as the speaker.