I look for you in everything
With or without wine
I can see pointed toes
Within black socks
Pulled up to the middle of your calf
And black hair
That I’ve never been able
To reach out and touch.
No heartbeat says maybe
More than your eyes
Working chopsticks
Can reach into mine,
Yet laughter didn’t mean
What I had hoped
As I sat up late
Mixing fables
With my loneliness.
So twist away,
Reach out with flexed fingertips
Where I don’t belong,
And allow me to linger here
To sort out my other side
And remember
The smile that set me free.