You send me postcards from there.
More pictures than postcards, really.
Pictures you take yourself-
Captured moments
With writing on the back.
You tell me 'hi',
That you miss me,
That you're having the time of your life.
My tired eyes wander
Through the scenes
Seeking some semblance of familiarity.
Everything is out of place.
That half-empty bottle of whiskey
On the bedside table
Isn't your brand.
That's not the balcony
On which we first
Kissed.
That's not the skyline
That acted as the backdrop
For our epic romance.
You send me postcards from there.
More pictures than postcards, really.
You're having the time of you're life.
I'm right here.
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