i miss the space where you paced
and then sat and guarded me in white.
with sad brown eyes you talked to me,
uttered words i could never understand.
i still spoke back.
but i don't think you knew i said goodbye.
or rather, i don't think you knew i meant goodbye.
so i returned one dumb, drunk night
and there you weren't,
save static traces clinging to the rug
like tiny ghosts stretched thin around the world.
i couldn't even call to leave a message.
so now i type your name in code each day,
but seven years for each of mine
takes far too long to fade away.