You are the cracking bones
beneath my stretching ankles
reflected in the mirror.
You are the dry eyes at 1:08 AM
blurring old contacts,
unfocused on laptop glare.
You are the approach
of a passing car outside the window,
and the fading headlights bright.
You are the static in my pillow ear
as I contemplate why you are
in my head and on my skin, and yet,
you are not.


**V. K.