The susurration of the river is interrupted by the clink of a glass bottle against stone, and as a rover on your planet, I collect it … bracing myself for the possibility of just being demoted to satellite soon.

You’ve been drifting away lately, and I’m not sure if it was the autumn wind or your family carrying you away from me. I’m sure you are just making the most of the daylight with them, and at night, just busy at work and not quiet quitting our relationship.

My gut feeling is a whispered warning I decided unintelligible. I chase traces of you like a dog desperately trying to find its way home; like you might be just around the corner, waiting for me with a smile on your face and your hand outstretched. I spin out in the same old circles and drift through the rest of my life feeling distinctly untethered.

Well, almost untethered. Commitment and loyalty keep me marcescent to us. I don’t know what I would be without you. Myself, I guess. But that’s never really been enough for me