I looked at some of the pictures
that you left on my laptop.
I found one of your long blonde hairs
and remembered how it never stops.
I caught your scent on my pillow.
I wrote your name in a poem.
I went and jumped off the footbridge again.
I learned all the lyrics to ‘Home’.
I bought you a ukulele;
it’s a different color than mine,
but maybe we can play ’em together
when I see you again next time.
I could come to Arizona.
We could meet up in San Fran.
I don’t give a fuck; it could be anywhere.
For you I’d swim to Japan.