Have you ever wanted to reach a place that doesn’t exist?

i like that i no longer say “we” when talking about things i did with you
i say “I did this” and “I did that”

i find myself wondering
if i will ever love anyone else as much as i [even still] love you.

and i feel compelled to be a productive poet
and write a great poem about thanksgiving
and i don’t feel that thankful.

i want to learn a new language
i want to read great books
i want to write great things

i dreamt about you last night
i could feel your body as real as when we danced

it seems my heart almost ruptures from loneliness

whenever i smell anything similar to your perfume
i turn around.

is love noticing her hair is softer today than yesterday?
is love rationally willing me to not think of her, but doing so anyway?

like a junkie searching for a vein,
i want to be with you