i took a series of photos of myself
called them "drops" after
the water on my hair, in my skin
feel myself breathing with you, fickle friend
unobserving lover, dispossessed, un-obsessed
the one who needs me and then doesn't, doesn't, doesn't.
i do miss your voice, and the palms of your hands.
trying not to say "i" these days
trying and instead becoming unintelligible
nothing incurable with a day or two, i'm sure.
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