apart from you I long for you;
without hope of your company
my mind wanders the landscape of our future
potential clinging to me like static,
the soft skin of our never-be
pale and barely touching.
warning words of your steel walls
arrive on my porch, packages from friends.
I take inventory of their weight, their size,
and corner-stack them
in preparation for your entrance here -
I never open them.
the sun sets earlier
rain falls down
through the Winter
I keep the hearth burning for some version of you
after your real mind, so difficult to discern,
your frightened limbs,
your soft skirts and hard disdain
have drifted naturally from my life.
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