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?