I’m watching you cook in the reflection in the window. When I put my cheek down on the desk, I can see you moving around, unaware that I’m watching. It’s nice to see you at work, and how the window distorts your image. I can also see the jade and the snake plants, and you.
I’m sitting alone in the dark room next to you, typing, imagining, remembering, loving.
Some of the most intimate moments are ones we are apart.