That lonesome,
Long distance
Kind of love.
Shared through
The microwaves,
Images he will treasure
In the darkness
Of his motel room.
They will be his only
Flicker of light
For the next 5 days,
His own solitary pleasure.
He will gaze into that full
Bright handheld moon
And imagine
Floating gently into
It’s haze, losing himself
Slowly, bit by bit,
Measure by measure
While she waits
Patiently on the other
Side of the world,
Assisting,
Offering,
Pleasing
At his leisure

Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017