Distance

At first unfamiliar

cold and vacant,

we settle into it,

like our childhood mattress

or an old sweater we cannot give away. 

The calls start off frequent,

the small talk learned. 

Conversations are easy, surprisingly,

but leave us tired, empty.

Days pass, weeks come and go. 

Months fade into months and time, 

in its slippery way, creates echoes, 

an expanse so vast

we cannot see to the other side.

All we have now is nostalgia.

Where are you now, and where am I?

How did I grow comfortable in this gap: 

this space so void of you?

What I must embrace is what I fear: the lack of you 

as I sink further

into this place 

only mine.