sometimes I feel my words falling off me one by one and I cannot catch them and I can only watch them

like that rainfall that
   cannot be stopped
        over the roof of my apartment

and I get lost in
   the growing absence of you
        it consumes me

I keep
   reaching out my hands
       only to see fingers hanging in the air

                     you've never held them

I wish I could dream up the warmth of skin
   but my imagination has its limits
       I feel helpless in my crippled poetry

you are already forgetting me
    and I, not sure what to do with my dying love for you,
        get up around 3 a.m.
                                                 and make myself
              a cup of hot milk

          there is no tomorrow
  only here, this warm whiteness,
                 sip by sip

              the night drips
       out of my eye sockets
      contaminating my milk