The moon was awfully bright tonight, and it reminded me of missing you. Which is not to say I miss you.
But the fact is, you’re so far away.
Some impossibly expensive plane ticket away.
I wish you would call me.
We were always best like this, at a distance, exhausted, a candle burnt at both ends. It was hard to sleep without you, maybe it’s harder to sleep without you in the same city.
This is just a series of hardships, slowly decreasing in severity.
Which is to say. I don’t miss you like I used to.
But the moon makes me feel like I should be.
I’ve been saying,
We’re only still married by fault of a piece of paper,
a pair of names on the mailbox,
And another set on the doorbell.
They took our names off the doorbell.