Update
You must hate
the way
I think about you.
constantly.
Or at least I imagine
and yet you fill my head
potently.
I miss your delicate fingers
singing to my skin
when you filled holes
with hope
that would soon need replacing.
I was tracing
your fingerprints.
you are so suddenly distant
as if we fear
each other.
because you still say
“I love you”
but we don’t talk like we used to.
and in the gap between my response
I’m wondering if you are reliant
upon me
as I am to you.
because whenever I hear you whisper
the words that burn in my eyes
I never see your face
your love is always somewhat a surprise