These days we find ourselves together
Alone, since you seek it,
And I give in.
People think this is familiar
But it was never quite like this,
The wrongness twists and clenches inside me
But you seem to be okay.

You need the company
But it aches to be around you
In this beautiful, hollow space.
We call them comfortable silences
But all they are is there.

I stoop down to pick up the things you cannot
And watching you struggle, it kills to think
That this might be just as fleeting.
In winter, I bundle up in bed
Your temperature too bitterly cold.
I bear it in silence
Marring the memory of her.

I was too young to reason when we were together alone before.
I carry memories of paper boats and matchstick games
And story after story after story.
Now I am old enough to reason,
And you are the same
For now.

We discuss humidity and rain
And your tales of boyhood,
What to eat for breakfast,
And you dote on me as we do.
But there are gaps, wide,
Yawning holes she would have filled,
Did fill, never needed to fill,
Since it was never quite like this.

An old dusty jigsaw puzzle
Lifted from the bottom shelf,
Nostalgia woven through a still image;
No one notices,
Not even you –
Fading eyesight, slowly scattering mind-
The crooked crack in the centre,
Pale tile underneath,
The missing piece.
We are forever incomplete.

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