methods

been distant.
compressed,
sealed--
in bottles..
glass.
they're brittle.
ill break
to pieces,
shards.

would you rush to cup me in palms?
i'll cut
watch it.

 foreign furnaces feel familiar
your warmth.. strange

its not so much about her
everything else lingers
around an outline of an image
where she used to be
the rest remains.

the remains are..

reminders of the missing.

BUT there are methods to dealing.

methods to feel nothing 

to witness a departure 

feel cut and limbless

to not weep.

feel warm when naked 

stripped when clothed

loved when ditched

methods

to remind the forgetful

live in death

to hate the love
the one you want

the love you give

methods 

to acknowledging a stranger 

and making the familiar stranger

than intended

to presenting the past 

going past the present

methods
to mending a wound 

relieving the pain

                    to running away
                                 and crawling right back

to pulling apart an entity

                            

                 having a hole

within a whole

I could tell you 

but I wont.

been too long since
we sat under trees
gotten lost in vintage shops
overlooked the foreign books
sipped on all the caffeine
that kept us wake for days
so we could love one another

counting seconds between breaths between strokes
between breasts between thoughts about lovers
that never learned to love us like we did the other

but I have found methods.

for when she finds
new shoes
to walk her
old paths
without me.