I think it’s there now—
that thing we searched for all that time.
Can’t you feel it?
The thumping, burning, weeping inside?
Can’t you hear it?
The whispers in sleep, with eyes open, from under those deep hopes?
I know it’s here—
for the past week it’s kissed my thumbtips.
Do you know it’s here--
for months you’ve held a body
posing as my own.