He does not think at all.

I know not
how he thinks
it to be so easy,
as if being apart
is only so natural.

I know not
how he thinks
I live through my days,
the days I
do not see him.

I think I do not live at all.

I wrote this back in 2004, when my boyfriend and I were in a never-ending long-distance relationship across countries. For him, the distance seemed rite of passage, temporary, situational (even if it went on for years) because he believed we simply were just meant to be. For me, the distance was all-consuming, the absolute negative space waiting to devour us. The good thing though, a lot of writing came out of it.