Bad news today. A far away love has finally decided that he is going to stay far away, re-commit to the life and love he has built for himself there. To ease the process, he wants to stop all communication. I've become so used to our daily emails. My morning email to him, wishing him good night, became a ritual comparable to pouring one's love their Earl Grey at breakfast time. I sent him this Carol Ann Duffy poem a few weeks ago:
World
On the other side of the world,
you pass the moon to me,
like a loving cup,
or a quaich.
I roll you the sun.
I go to bed,
as you're getting up
on the other side of the world.
You have scattered the stars
towards me here, like seeds
in the earth.
All through the night,
I have sent you
bunches, bouquets, of cloud
to the other side of the world;
so my love will be shade
where you are,
and yours,
as I turn in my sleep,
the bud of a star.
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