Doing dishes today felt different
cause there was two of everything.
Two mugs into three,
we must really like tea.
Two big plates and little plates
and half of a left over cheesecake.
The roast from last night that I just ate
didn't have the same taste.
The extra towel drying on the rack
is triggering an irritating flashback.
Even with the windows shut and the radiator on
it doesn't feel warm.
Too much space in the bed...
enough said!
I don't so much miss you
but more the concept of you.
Just had a cigarette
and wrote this poem too.
The usual drill
you haven't replied to my text, still.
"Am I in?", you asked.
Not yet, I feel.