you aren’t here
and you don’t know that i
love you countless ways

in a different way than how
we used to kiss in that tall tree of hope

I love your thing
your whiskers
your coarse black  hair in the
    nest of where I spend my nights(a slugabed)
your trunk, rooted deeply
in your strong muscular back
and I love your
feet.
your
wide
toenails

c o v e r i n g   t h e   e n t i r e t y   o f    t h e   t o p   o f   y o u r    t o e.
I love your words
and I know that they mean what they are
nothing more

and I love how I trust you
I trust you with the,
Frailty   of   my,   sickly body
and my cardiovascular device
and you hold it with those fingertips that
--so often hold me

mistakes are mended by your fingers
hands are held by your fingers
mysteries are managed by your hands and
each finger does its duty


and ever and again you don’t understand why I do things
why I push you away
like a baby that won't open its mouth for medicine
I cannot make sense of these things either
and I wish
(on every kiss, sweetness dear)
that I didn’t do them
but sometimes life makes
--you wonder what am I doing
driving on the left side of the road