he made love to me without knowing me,
he kissed my ******* as if he had never seen
anything so beautiful.
he kept muttering,
" I can't believe this is happening".
he kissed my eyelids
and my lips,
he let me stutter about how long it had been.
he stopped
and laughed with me,
when we heard voices
outside of the hostel room.
he cooed foreign  loving words
in an australian tongue.
a mix of old english and indigenous
though he wouldn't want to admit it
he made me feel like i was enough
and that i owed him nothing,
he made me feel like i was perfect
on my own,
that i didn't need you
to be a good person.
he doesn't know you,
so he doesn't know you
are a missing part of me
so maybe you
aren't anymore

we sat naked
wrapped up in a sheet,
sitting on the sill of a window.
we watched the night turn into
morning and people
alone and cold
on the dimly lit streets
and he kissed my check
when
he told he had someone,
like i had you
and that he finally
felt like himself too.
we left and drank dark beer,
the woman said it would
cure his flushed face
her words made
made it worse
we walked the quiet sleepy streets,
holding hands in his coat pocket.
the next day he flew away
like you did
but he made me feel whole
and like i could be
on my own
instead of the way
you make me feel empty
and useless