I bought a new dresser since you propped me again mine.
No longer can I reinvent that day –
it is too high, I would not knock your belongings into a drawer
and fish by strings of saliva just to see you again,
send my body parts to your mailbox so they feel at home.

But I can sit pantyless in an office chair
shooting bad guys via computer cables. They all are bald and
do not voice in my accent, nor yours, we were only
ourselves almost as I am only me without you
though not quite. Somehow we
are two together while I am not more than a half on my own.

When the judge asks,
how many fractions are the reminisces of a person worth?
I pontificate that I shall test them like a hypothesis,
I forget the loss of virginity because naivety never did leave me
though you did, and that is about the same, but not quite.