I am tired of missing you,
the exercise of the distance.
Like a cat,
returning to it's bowl
no more than five minutes after emptying it,
you are a temporary figure now,
that cannot claim object permanence.
That someday,
poured into a ramekin
like honey and soap,
is numbed by the relentless and
staggered steps
of the hour.
Lift your eyes up, to the horizon
where the plane flattens
into a thin line
and the future lays blue
and final.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 10:20 PM UTC
I am tired of missing you,
the exercise of the distance.
Like a cat,
returning to it's bowl
no more than five minutes after emptying it,
you are a temporary figure now,
that cannot claim object permanence.
That someday,
poured into a ramekin
like honey and soap,
is numbed by the relentless and
staggered steps
of the hour.
Lift your eyes up, to the horizon
where the plane flattens
into a thin line
and the future lays blue
and final.
long-distance is a ***** and a half folks
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