I am very careful. I keep small. Unobtrusive, with only pin pricks of behaviour and momentary stutters.
I don’t mention you.
Or the waxing waning of my shadow beneath your light.
I keep my pens in a row. I drink coffee with soya milk. I try not to sleep through meetings. I smile politely, I flick crumbs from my shirt.
Then I remember your smile and a frenzy of memories rattle my stupor to a waking roar, with an ocean incomplete and a sky full of holes.
I write an email and forget the heading. I make another coffee.
I watch time tip so slowly that my eyes cross.
I’ll meet you on the overmorrow,
Until then I barely exist.