it’s a long walk back
I said
we walked here earlier
you said
I know but
the  grass looked greener
then

I need to stop hurting every day
Feel like I've lost who I am
How can I insist I'm okay?
Too long spent living a sham

You're not there each second with me
Fall apart when you're not around
How I act like I'm happy
In your absence break down

I cannot smell your scent when you're gone
Touch
Hear your voice
Have to stand up and be strong
That's my only choice

We’re playing the long game.
We share things, we’re lovers,
we slip in and out of each other’s lives
like jackets hanging on the back of a door.

Relationships are like instruments,
they must be played, kept in tune,
the carnal and the corny balanced,
carefully, like sections of an orchestra.

Sometimes, I feel that I have to bring the energy,
BE the entertainment - and I can do that - in spades
but not forever - I’m not a tireless-giver - in fact,
I'm atavistically Parisien (we admit loving nothing).

I’m learning that when a relationship’s conducted,
at great remove, the basics - like punctuality,
dependability and preparation - become a big deal.

When I’m in an optimistic headspace, I think we can do it,
maybe, that we know what we want and who we are.

That we’re playing the long game