you write to me
about our kids and the hill we live on
you write to me
about the "honey, I'm home"s and soft loaves of homemade bread
about making soup as a family
about working from home living on the land
about swatting hands away from dinner until its ready
about eating outside in the light summer evening
picnic baskets soft glances as you do
homemade jam and uncut meadow filled lawns
and even though we haven't talked in weeks
I see it so clearly that I'm overwhelmed
tears of craving that
of wanting that
of wanting you  
I had forgotten how quickly I bend for you
gentle words about a tender life
I'm bending
so far, for you  

but you leave
long gone
too far to whisper your soft words
I will shatter
like I always do
break in half
even in two
id choose that
id choose life with you
Isn't that terrifying