today to reduce the friction ,
i imagined his hands were yours
his rapid gasps as your
slow sweet melody in my ear
a song familiar yet distant

it’s like the time we spent listening to loud muffled music through closed doors
we knew all the words but all we could hear was a thudding beat
and softened lyrics
or when the living room tv played an instrumental that i twirled to
in the kitchen over coffee
distant and soft
most things with you were like that
my version of you was like that

who you are to the world is an armor
a protected identity
all present and sharp
formed from your roots
spoken through a body canvas
and select dialogue
displayed in your recreations of
what you want so desperately to be
but underneath the armor is a warm bed
a dimly lit lamp covered by a bandana
a deep belly laugh with reservations
tears and fears and everything lovely

so when they ask me “do you miss him”
i will gently answer “no”
for one simple reason that
the “him” i loved died when he gave me a last distant and soft goodbye