The Many Ghosts of You

Pillows no longer suffice

for tangled up legs and bodies,

and delete buttons only exist

on keyboards and

not in the mind.

Matching puzzle pieces almost

always fit together in that

unchanging way.

Maybe we were pressed against one

another

just hard enough to seem

like our colors and lines were meant to be.

A false connection.

And among all the uncertainty

when it's dark and quiet

and the lonely night is

tugging at my brains,

the one thing that I know is this:

blankets pulled tight over-head

won't suffice in protecting me from

the many ghosts of you.