In the Sweatshirt You Left Me

Each passing day gives me a gift. 

The gift of absence.

And from this absence comes longing,

Longing to be firmly in your touch.

To kiss,

To cuddle, 

To feel whole again,

Is a gift that only you can bestow upon me.

 

I’m doing all I can here,

But Amsterdam is so far.

I wish it was just the next exit off 695.

 

Love is never that simple.

 

I lie in bed every night and imagine,

Your slim hands caressing my plush body. 

 

I write this in the sweatshirt you left me.

It’s the last piece of you I can wrap myself in,

Until April 26th.