after months of
not dreaming and
now that's all I do--

you came unannounced
to get the last of your belongings--
usually a house is a rough analogy
for my heart

and I went out to the garage
wide open, not a single
thing of yours left

what a strange
thing to feel like you
never knew someone

i have the hopes
strung like outliers, darting
off the graph,
stretching a little too far
I was never good with
strategy, math, a rough
sediment but never dust
and we reached the
angle of repose so
long ago.