Your hair
tangles
hands
across hips
the color red
your familiar
alien scent
as stars dance
in your dilating eyes.

It's a cold and lonely world
when the only person
you can talk to
is paid to do so
once every ten days or so.

When no one wants details,
and friends respond only with emojis
the cold of Winter
snaps especially deep.

When you are here,
you light up my world.
And so,
when you're gone,
I keep all the lights on.

The bedroom light on
(I imagine you in there reading)
The bathroom light on
(I imagine you in there grooming)
The living room light on
(I imagine you doing homework)

And still,
my world,
is dim.

She sings but
the song
isn't the same
without you
here.

And I can taste
the tears
you do not shed
as your pretty head
rests elsewhere.

I could bring the blood
of a thousand sacrifices
spilling entrails
through the fingers
just to hear
you call me
by My name.

Are you there?
If so,
it's less.

And you say don't plant flowers,
then wonder why we have no garden.

And you say don't call you by name,
then wonder why we've become strangers.

And you say don't give,
then wonder why we share nothing.

And you say don't speak freely,
then wonder why meals are so silent.

Are you there?

Are you?

I look to you
but there's no one
there.

And this non-silence
cuts through skin
leaving only nerves
unwound like noodles.

I can quiet this vessel
with lies and straw
like the effigy
lit to us.