Day 38: 23 January 2024

50 poems a day

Tuesday's passage, a distant moon,

Three hours apart, our time a boon.

I sensed your weariness, the distance clear,

Yet know, my love, your heart is near.

 

In absence, my comfort may seem remote,

But in every beat, love's antidote.

I stumble, imperfect in this dance,

Yet, together, we find sweet romance.

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