Lately I’ve been dreaming of the way your dark eyes
would slide over me, absorbing every iota of detail
like you were hungry for me in a way that nothing else
could ever substitute for. I still smell your aftershave
sometimes, still hear the echo of your laugh in a crowd,
but when I turn around, you’re not there anymore.
Last night we met in New York and the city was noisy
and full of mystery and somewhere in all of it, somewhere
on those gridded streets, you found me and you were done
pretending that this separation between us was a way
you were willing to live your life. Quietly, you seep into me.
Quietly, you disperse like a vapor in my bloodstream.
Quietly, you put me back to sleep.