We say to each other when we call
once we’ve motored to our respective

homes, unlocked our sticky locks
and ushered ourselves back in.

We call, minutes or sometimes hours
after we arrive, having forgotten to,

assuming that the other instinctively
knows that we are safely

home, that their love has tagged
along after us like a loyal dog,

that it couldn’t do anything but
keep us safe, embraced from afar.

Because it always does.
I pray that it always will.