do you still miss me
in the static of days gone silent?

i remember exactly
when everyday conversations faded into weekends.
the first time you were absent
for a four day trip;
those days longer than the weeks,
than the silences that now stretch
between sunrise and sunset.

i was right to say it,
i’d never not love you again,
the day that we met.
there is just no way to translate that
into something palatable enough for infrequent,
casual conversation.
brave as a noun too big for me to possess,
to talk about it.