Then looking upwards, I strain my eyes and try to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites from the passenger seat as you are driving me home. “Do they collide?” I ask and you smile. With my feet on the dash, the world doesn’t matter.
The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door have been silenced forever more. The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row. It seems farther than ever before. Oh no, I need you so much closer.
Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole just like a faucet that leaks & there is comfort in the sound. But while you debate half-empty or half-full, it slowly rises. Your love is gonna drown.
“I wish the world was flat like the old days then I could travel just by folding the map. No more airplanes or speed trains or freeways. There’d be no distance that could hold us back.”