Every night I spend alone knows your name.

I try to remember your promises;
you carried them in your back pockets.
And I think that if I were to check your
laundry,
I'd still find them waiting in your
shorts,
unfulfilled.

I try to remember what you looked like
the last time I saw you;
how her name was waiting on your lips,
hanging in the air between us
like a thread waiting to be cut.
I remember how you loved my body
and pitied my mind,
and fell asleep with the door open.

I walked home in the snow,
but it was warmer
than laying next to you.