i didn’t touch her.
 but the air
  between our hands
   folded
    like it once did
      when closeness
        meant undoing.

she left
 before the door shut.
but her presence,
 a tilt
  in the chair,
   a wrinkle
    on the bedsheet
remained,
 louder
  than any word.

you don’t forget
 the scent
  of not-touching.
you carry
  the warmth
   that never reached
    your shoulder.

i didn’t say goodbye.
but the room
 still hears
  her silence.

—

I didn’t want to fall apart mid-sentence,
So I said less and asked more questions.
Tuned out love songs, skipped our street —
I made avoiding you look complete.

I smile and nod when your name is mentioned,
As if it doesn't pull me out of the conversation
They throw it around casually, like it's not cutting right through —
I guess I never got to cry out about you.

You and I
Wade knee-deep
In fragrant meadows

Can you still see me

Standing in this dark room

Talking to the memory of you

Your hand is back in my hair

The love is still there

Just like you never left

But that is not my life

I couldn't sit pretty

To let you create a pretty lie

And now I'm here and for all I know..

You may have died.