A small requirement, a judgment overlooked

The murmur of cars and voices far-off

The dullness will settle in soon enough

But only as soon as I allow it

Frequent visits, a cordial dinner

And the taste of cherries still on my tongue

From a Sunday I don’t want to forget

You weave yourself into the fabric of my mind

As I peel off the dead skin

Of what might have been a good day

Today will be better, you tell me

We sit 90 miles away from each other

But so close I can feel the tears on your cheeks

As you can feel the heat of my blush

On the palm of your hand