You look up from your work computer and
close your eyes, willing the worlds away
to flood your head. You wish you were in her world
right this minute, helping with her groceries,
run errands, come back home and wash your hands
and talk of the traffic, of the bookstore,
of the milk shop at the corner of your street.
Of the war, of the man and the woman shot,
of such an abrupt end to their world, suddenly wishing
their worlds too would flood your head.
Instead, here you are. Still longing as the years drip away.
Still lucky she loves you, still one more day
to make good on the promises you made.
Featured image: Auf Der Treppe by Albin Egger-Lienz (1890) via Wikiart.org