I remember the first
time we kissed in
your living room on
one of the hottest
days in June. You
spun me in a circle
to the sound of that
new French record
you had just bought
and then you pulled
me to you
quietly
gently
and with a fire in every
crevice of my body
I said, "You're
tall. I like that." You
ran your thumb down
my ear, whispered,
"I like you" into my
forehead.

If you're reading this
if you're   seeing this
if you're hearing this
just  know   that  this
is  about that   t i m e
(the        last        time)
you grabbed my face
with  both   hands  in
the    stockroom   and
kissed me.  Just know
that t h i s is about the
first night  I fell asleep
in  that bed with your
nose pressed  into my
n e c k       and  how  I
haven't    slept    since.
Just    k n o w    this  is
about how the curve of
your     bottom    lip    is
imprinted   in  the   back
of my dreams on the rare
nights  that  I  do,   about
how  I  like to   r u n   my
fingers  on  my    forearm
because if I     f l e x     it a
certain way it feels a little
like    yours.    Just   know
that this is about the parts
of me I let   you  have and
how I don't   w a n t  them
back,  about  how  I  really
have been  trying to move
on but it's  g o t t e n     me
nowhere  except  dead end
roads or  t r a i l s  that stop
with  me  not  being able to
sleep in my   bed   anymore
because  I  shared  it     with
someone  who  wasn't  you.
This is about how I am still
in    love    with   you,   will
always be in love with you,
cannot  figure   out  how  to
stop being in love with you.
If     you're      reading    this
if   you're   s e e i n g       this
if     you're       hearing    this
I  miss  you.  C o m e    back.

i was fine   before you so i
will survive after you, but
it's  just  that   i'm   having
trouble figuring out  what
parts of me have    always
existed     and  what  parts
are         your         creation