I Hate Kevin Testo

We've been here one too many times,
and I can recite you line for line.

I keep my poems underneath my pillow
so the ink seeps deep inside my dreams.

If you can only hear the light I see you in.
If you can only feel the words I wrap you in.

And then I woke up and stood and I stopped and stared and I watched and listened and finally realized that it is just me.

I feel miserable and it feels wonderful.

The whole way home, with no hands, I held onto the hopes of holding you.