You hold my body and I wonder why your hands feel like salt.
I wish my heart was vinegar so we could
shine together.

I want you to know I made it,
I ignored the fact you weren’t around long enough
I almost forgot it.
I bleached the photos of your face
now you look like a ghost.
Can you tell me,
is this life better alone? 

I wish you only the best,
but wonder if your best could ever be good enough.
I think your intrusive thoughts are strangers I make eyes with
at the coffee shops,
libraries, and bars.
I wonder if their tongues can tie knots
like ours.

I hope your mother’s kitchen still smells like roasted beef. I hope when you go home, you feel home. I hope the towels are clean and the only residue on your sheets is from the last time you were there with me. I hope you find my hair tangled in your shorts, under your mouse pad, and in the corners of the shower.

I imagine every word you said as polaroids. I melt the plastic down and make beads. Wear them as a necklace. I forget about you when it’s daylight, but the silence of the night sky channels voices from my heart. 

Then I remember.

It will always be like this.