You’d think the ceiling was fascinating
the way it held my attention at 4:03 a.m.
the half-empty moon casting shadows
on those tiny stalactites at 4:20.
No need for a poker face in your absence.
It’s 4:53 and I have two hours left
to share my pillow with this nightmare.
The silence outside reminds me at 4:55
that you won’t be coming home until Friday.
Hard to believe that when you call in a few hours
I’ll say everything is fine.
Even harder to believe it might be true.