We can’t see
the sun here.
Drinking coffee in rooms
that echo with absence,
the distance between us
crashes into me.
I can’t help to imagine
the violent sky unfolding
in the space between,
streaked with the hues
of a bloodstained dawn.
In silence
heavy with unspoken words,
the mug is warm
in my hands.
And as the bitter taste
hits my lips,
I’m not sure
if this pain in my chest
is longing or fear.