It started with a toothbrush;
that now resides in my drawer,
adjacent to my own,
just left of my face wash.

From there, you’ve continuously trickled into my life
bit by bit,
inch by inch,
forgotten sock by forgotten sock,

So that now you’ve left yourself everywhere.
My sheets carry your scent.
I sweep up your laughter from the floor tiles,
and wipe your smile from my mirror.

You’ve encompassed my thoughts
with your dark features and pale skin.
Your voice glides around my jawline,
past your freckles that reside now on my neck.

The quirks I can’t stand, I’m beginning to crave.
Every knuckle crack,
and neck twist,
even the annoying way you do each twice.

My sheets are constantly askew,
and keep the air cold,
and I leave things scattered
so it feels like you’ve never left.

Your dust has settled in my room,
but I refuse to clean it
because the dissonance you create,
is the harmony I desperately need.