i watched your hands a lot
to see what you would do with them.
i put myself out there,
begging with everything but my words.
we have this chemistry.
something about your skin against mine
was like man touching the sun without dying,
the stillness of a palm pressed against the surface of water
without breaking it.
*can you feel it?

can you call me
just because i’m on your mind
and you’re wondering what i’m up to
how i’ve been doing
what books i’ve been reading
what movies i’ve been watching.
can you call me
just to hear me say “hi,
i miss you. when are you coming back?”
can you call me
to laugh
to cry
to be two people
who didn’t think they felt the same
and now don’t feel so alone.
can you call me
to tell me a story
to explain sci-fi movies
to debate because we’re good at it.
can you call me
to not say anything
to sleep to the sound of our breathing
to drift into the same memory
of all the times you used to
call me.

there are songs i can’t listen to
movies and shows i can’t watch
food i can’t eat
places i can’t go
clothes i can’t wear
and things i can’t do
because i sang them
and watched them
and ate them
and went there
and wore them
and did them
with you.