sometimes

you graze my arm

at the first note of a song,

when i’m falling into REM

.

i get a glimmer of you

walking past the dry clean window,

in the lap of the chilled lake

.

i catch you in the smell

of daisies,

my one perfume that’s collected

dust

.

a pang in my heart.

the emptiness of sheets

.

half-hearted, half-dazed

pieces of what has now

blurred year in,

year

out

(4/5/24)