On the far side of the bed

you scroll through your phone

with a thin grin curled up on your mouth.

The same mouth that used to

talk to me about everything;

The same smile I caught

watching me while I slept;

The same one that watched me undress.

Your screen, very bright on your enthused face;

I used to be the light filling your eyes.

You told me I could

talk to you about anything, anytime.

I open my mouth…

Nothing comes out.

So I pick up my phone too.

© D.L. Lunsford