The only French I speak, I learned from the uncrossable space in bed
You.
Me.
I learned it when we started to just say bye in the mornings
When we stopped hugging after work,
When I was too busy playing games, watching Netflix, on my phone,
and you had already cleaned the kitchen, put away the laundry,
You wanted something you won't take now because I wasn't too busy and I don't even play that game anymore, and I can't remember the shows but I'm sure they are still on Netflix, and phones will always be a distraction from people to put everything down and take off the masks we make so we can breathe every day and connect as people. In those moments, I started missing you and you were already missing me. I just really wish I could stop going Supernova but there's a slowly swirling marble rock ball that's slowly making its way from sitting in fire of the pits of my stomach,
rolling up my chest, bouncing off ribs, escaping to the small of my back, rolling up my spine, spinning counter clockwise in figure eights across my shoulder blades until it sits over my heart and sinks to my Stomach Again.
Now I've lost form and more and I really just need to get my