I look for you everywhere.

I still speak to my second person.

You are still the voice that speaks back,

Located in the next chamber in my chest.

I look for you everywhere,

But without reaching, without needing and hope, I say.

But for this dreamlife predisposition, that you confirmed,

I'd be free and empty.

I look for you everywhere,

At the 5 o'clock hour and the corner bench top.

In pages and maps and feeds and words.

Your 'A' will haunt me happily for a while yet.

I look for you everywhere,

And because you are not there,

I cradle your turned-over butterfly in the cushions of my palm and fingers.

And soon, in this way, you will fly and I will fall asleep.