Our love was nothing
more than faded letters
kept in a drawer,
eating dust to survive.
We pretended it died
out of famine
as we discreetly moved on
free of guilt.


But...


I still have the scars
hidden under my sleeves;
begging for attention,
like a kid in the aisle
of a candy store,
eyeing a bottle of gummy bears
and a pack of Reeses.


What is there to miss?


I don't even know
the curve of your smile
when you said a cryptic 'hi'
almost a month ago.
When you pulled me close-
but not too close
because you were afraid of love
more than losing it.


Our hands
weren't made
to touch;
a curve and an asymptote
always r e a c h i n g,
a depressed biology
of 'crown shyness'
moving from trees
to human fingertips.


And so i
planned to leave...


only to see
your addio note
and spare keys
sitting comfortably
on the breakfast table,
having a pep talk
with a cup of cold coffee
and a stale egg omelette.


You won
in our race
to goodbye.