Her here

So I've home to the here here and the you here and the not here - and the documents you left; a hat on the wrong chair, matching sneakers (pink for casual runs), these crumbled sheets...I don't know what tomorrow brings, it must be full of certainties - faint ruffles, our yawning deep such that we've no solution but to love. This method, well I call it living and now you've departed, there's this gap - a heaving arch my sole bed - so now the you here, not here, tonight makes even leaves have secrets and the my here ache to know

the divine comedy

So I've bullet-holes up my sleeve and yet, the tricks ring false in the sweet arena of our new youth - and when I to you (that disappearing but sings) and ask why this me - you smile all arch and fringe and beauty, pop and olive and hold me till I quiver