A Retrospective On the One I Was With

Like mattresses and pillows, I think you are boring–

The kind of boring that I miss in the morning,

The kind of boring that I didn't mind to return to,

The kind of boring that I don't mind falling asleep to.

Perhaps my memory of you is changed because you're gone–

The kind of gone that births unfounded speculation,

The kind of gone that is less apart and more away,

The kind of gone that can only be healed by airplane,

The kind of gone that cannot just be ignored,

But I can't afford an airline ticket to be bored.