You don’t like it when I mention the breakup;

My words pop the bubble

you’ve formed around yourself

– like a comfort blanket.


No-one’s broken up during a global pandemic before;

there are no hard-and-fast rules

(not that we were subscribing to rules,

but some guidance might be nice).


We’ve been apart for four weeks,

by now it would be getting easier

– if times were ordinary.

But these are not ordinary times.


Occasionally, I feel the distance makes it easier;

this big wedge, forced between us

to sever our connection.

Other times, I feel it’s come too soon.


How will we find ourselves

on similar pages when we’re chapters apart?

Will you stop treating my words

like needles popping your balloon?



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