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


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