I talk to the mirror on the wall
Muted sentences
Practising the happy face
I’ll show you when you call.
Then, through panes of glass outside
Or the windows of our screens
I look at you – looking at me
Me, smiling as I cry inside
Realising what it means
Not to hold you
And everything I told you
Is not the same
As when you’re here with me
That clichéd rhyme
Of missing your touch
And loving you so much
Is not enough when I can only see
Your face through glass, or on a screen.
I wish you were in my room
But we don’t have that choice
And I’m trying to explain
How to Un-mute the Zoom
So I can hear your voice
And like the mirror on the wall
Muted sentences are all
I have, again.