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.