For My Wife, Chelsea
Are you thinking of me? I know you say you do. But is it true? You’re miles away in a place I know nothing about. Making new memories without me, while I stay here in my worry and doubt.
You’re probably—no…you’re absolutely wearing something beautiful: black dress that falls just above your knees; red lipstick that says, “kiss me, please.” I just hope your lips are calling for me.
And of course, guys will stare, and undress you with their lustful eyes like I would if I was there. But I’m not, and I wonder if you care.
For now, I’ll just sit here, near our apartment door, waiting for you to walk through it. I know it won’t be soon, but I have my phone on my lap ’cause you might call in a bit.
Until then, I’ll gaze out the window and up at the moon.
For the moon can bring lovers together; I know it to be true. But it takes more than one—there has to be two. So please, think of me, while I think of you. Because I love you all the way there, and I know you love me, too.