This is a procession of bodies.
Him on the couch, right next to me tonuge stuck too far down.
You there too far away. Too confusing. Too much too anything. Too little everything.
Another stuck somewhere in the middle. Cute and sweet and here for now.
One right at my fingertips. A friend. A must have filled with so much hope.
Another too clingy, without spark. In no certain place at all.

And there will be others...  I think.
But what I have learned,
body after body,
Is that this is how the procession takes place.