this kind of desperation gets repetitive
and i forget the words i used to know
just to make more space for your name

and it overflows from between my lips
and dribbles down my chin, to my pen
onto the letters i will never think to send.

you were the passing breeze
the humming sound of working bees
the touch and go motion of a strip tease  
like sitting in a waiting room,
hoping you will finally find me.