We were one: bodies entwined as publicly decent. Thoughts merged, completing each other’s sentences, grinning stupidly, craving for when we’d be alone, existing as near as possible, absorbing each other’s heat, thigh-to-thigh, circumspect of surroundings.
You were gone, singing to crowds, while I functioned 9-5, captivated by my phone, your tweets, to everyone.
You merged with a groupie in Seattle. I wouldn’t have known, except for a sometime friend’s text, a picture. Arms slung over you, mouth slurping your neck.
In dreams, I stumble after your elusive image disappearing around a corner on a familiar road.