I have a question, love: Did you, when learning of my absence,
search for me? Did you look right there, in the air,
between the clouds and the sky - find me floating, filling your lungs?
Did you feel me pulsing through your veins, warming your bones

and caressing your spine? Did you look in the dusty corners of rooms
and cracks in trampled sidewalks? Did you ****** the covers and sheets
from your cold, stiff mattress, finding the pea that bothered your pretty
little head? Did you, for a second search for me?*

“Oh, but dear, I didn’t have to take a moment to question the taste
of the air or the warmth of my blood. I did not peak behind corners, nor
over any walls. I did not wonder what restricted me from sleep. For I knew-
you were there; I knew it was you. Tell me, lovely: what’s the point

in asking a question, when the answer I already knew? That all this pain,
and all this great sorrow was merely caused by you."