…and I’ve lost
what I found again
something that happens
far too often
I’ve lost
the thread of you, the
idea the scent
the notion and
motion that is
—that was—you.
For a day an hour
each minute that
there is space
there is time
between seeing
believing
having
holding
I lose
the thread of you.
…and it is horrible
it is sadness
the size of me, same
shape color smell feel
it is the
size of me,
replacing all
of who I was
…could be
but only ever
when I am
with you.