sometimes my mouth forgets how to form words of honesty
i look at the boy and i say
i do not need his love
and what i mean is
the strand of his hair that is perpetually out of place
feels as significant as a misplaced set of car keys
i think about the boy and say to myself
you are okay with being alone
i am okay with being alone
and what i mean is
i would channel all of the breath in my lungs for a moment of being held like i was something meaningful to another person
like the warmth of my blood was somehow tangible outside the thin tissues of my own skin
sometimes i wonder if my body will go on strike
lose form altogether at the lack of contact
become ambiguous out of lonely
but my lips curve into a smile when i ask how his day was
and they forget to reverberate back into place once he loses interest