on distance

 I want 

to be there

in the couch

with you

listening to

 

new buildings 

arise from the slumber

shadows

 

old birds chanting

recurrent melodies

the poetry on 

a glass of wine

 

the stink of distance

can be smell

through our

mobile devices

 

your books

my rug

the pictures

we have bought together

 

the kitchen

finds us staring 

at the steaming kettle

 

distance

is a primal fact

a no time zone

 

I am eating

that sandwich

that you love so much