by MJ Horsten
I wrote this about a former partner who could never find the time to stop and breathe.
|Sometimes, it feels like I'm a satellite
Always falling towards the earth.
I'm not concerned about the world below;
Although, I am a tad disturbed.
Often, I wish that you would take a breath
And blow up like a big balloon,
Then float so far above the exosphere
That we could live atop the moon.
Instead, you're walking through a bustling street
And there is business in your arms.
Sweetheart, I know that it might take awhile
Before you're ready to depart.