In between unloading the washing and making the beds.
In between home and California.
In between one coffee and another.
In between drop off and pick up.
In between seasons.
In between one song and the next.
In between the drops of rain.
Like I’m the heroine of some film.
I imagine I’m being watched.
I underplay my distress.
I’m not used to being on my own.
In the film, a stranger comes over.
She buys me another coffee, or offers me a ride, or the chance for adventure.
I couldn’t imagine ever not being with you.
I couldn’t imagine ever making art again.