The Thing That Can't Be Said Aloud
You’re only twenty miles from here, yet so far.
I imagine you, as I write this,
making dinner in your large beautiful kitchen.
Dancing as you move from stove to sink and back making your magic.
The sun is likely shining in the windows,
the dogs asleep on the floor near the stairs.
I know everything you will do tonight—putting the animals to bed in the barn,
walking the dogs under the stars,
reading in your blue pajamas till you fall asleep.
How many times have we done this dance?
Coming together—separating.
The silence.
The distance.
The unanswered questions.