I swept you under my rug
beneath the floorboards
of my bedroom.
I changed my shampoo
because I had suspected it
to have been the culprit
who let every pore absorb you.
I wiped the slate clean -
and the windows, and the walls -
bleached it until it was whiter
and brighter
than winter.

I changed my phone
hoping I had erased all the
traces of you
left in every fingerprint
I had placed on the screen.
I burned all the memories
because I wanted to imitate
your act of carelessness.
I even changed my sheets from
purple to blue
to purple again
just to make sure.

So, why am I still dreaming about you?

- g.d.