I am always moving towards you.

On my bad days, I say to myself: ‘then you.’
Sure, this now. But then you.

I will keep tossing myself life lines.
I will keep writing myself afloat
until I don’t have to write a poem for every mile marker
from here to California.

You and I together is the most foolish thing
I’ve ever hoped for. You and I apart is more foolish.

When I can’t sleep at night, I dream up
conversations with you. I never call. I never push.
I try not to whine. I just write it all down.

Sometimes I want to apologize for wanting you out loud,
like too many people know the reasons
I am going to have laugh lines.

Sometimes instead of distanced pillow talk,
I want to curl up with the phone
and read you poetry.

Instead, we just talk about it.

You say, ‘Honey, how was your day?’
And I say, “Today I wrote another poem
about your coffee cup mouth
and all the ways you still keep me up at night.’

I hear a sigh in your smile.
You make a sound that reminds me of
fighting with my bags at the airport;
but you’re still too far away.

– Trista Mateer, ”Laugh Lines”

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“To A Poet” by First Aid Kit