Can we keep things a little more separate?
I do more when you are busy.
I think more when I don’t think so much of you.
Can we keep things a little less desperate?
I do more when you are lazy.
I feel more when I don’t feel so much of you.
The space between your gaze and me is frantic, the tense between your strain and me is panic.
The wonder you send brings pieces of hush and washes of blank.
I think I’m smarter when you’re away.
Your space is more of you when I’m not there shining just as bright.
My wonderful friend, we need space in between.