for the time being

When I love you
I love you very much.
And when I don't, it's a missing ocean in my life.
Happily landlocked I build cities and towns far away from you. The main feeling I feel is used-to-it.

What did I mean the most?
Between all of this: the very much used box of Kleenex and bottle of cough medicine...
Between beloved dogs abandoned for holidays in Arizona.
After I gave up my weekends, after I started the 60 hour work weeks, but before I became a real grown up.
Between reading fiction books, and then reading nonfiction books.
Between becoming and dissolving.
Between clocking in with my fingers, and clocking in with a picture of my face to a little magnetic sensor.
Between drinking candy for a living, and eating salads for lunch.
Somewhere in there is where I am now, and what I mean the most is that you can stand up tall. You were made clean, at least, somewhere in between 1988 and 2013, for better and for worse.

We might get our heads chopped off by everyone, or we might find romance and that thing of settling down in a house with a compost pile and, God-forbid, a minivan.

For now I'm just happy when the dogs are snoring, because that means they're not awake.