What does distance tastes like?
I have wondered, but have no answer.
I can tell you what distance does not taste like.
It does not taste like the chicken schnitzel you used to make,
with the mashed potatoes and gravy,
but then curiously stopped.
I used to love that, and then it was gone.
I always wondered why you refused to prepare that anymore.

It also tastes nothing like the steak
that was so frequently part of our regular menu
and then was also missing.
Were the ingredients too expensive?
I never got word.

Even hamburgers seemed to prove too expensive
for the house, eventually.
Food proved rich for our blood
and the plates got smaller,
until finally, only hors d’oeuvres were served.
They were never really to my liking.

We grew apart,
even as I was visiting you many nights a week.
It was like you were preparing me
for your dissolution,
informing me
about a life without you.

I appreciate that.
It made it easier to say goodbye.
Still painful,
but
easier.

The taste of distance,
I suppose,
should I guess,
would be
hunger.