Luna in Vacuo

I've known her half my life.
We've woven in and out
of paths and arms and blankets.
Most communication
occurs when we need grounding.
It's not about the physical;
we know each other's souls.

"The moon is cool tonight,"
I told her down in Texas.
She traveled there for work last year
and never made it back.

"I can't see it
from the windows
of my place,"
she responded.

"It's time to move again," I typed.
My fingers hid my tone.

The conversation shifted
back to happiness and illness.
Those two can coexist.
That's more than most can say.