It was methodical, the way I went through my day,
Up out of bed, right to the dresser, down to the ground,
Pajamas droop to the floor as I await to gather them,
Toss them into the hamper and turn left to leave the room.
I would exit and enter the bathroom, look at the mirror,
Brush my teeth in tiny circles I only hoped to be exact
As if I could control the precision of my existence.

Why be so depressed and stressed
Just because you're lovesick,
It's fixable with the risk
Of one more set of dead lips.

Your naked silhouette in the moons full light.
I am eclipsed by you.