To Be Losing; To Be Lost

by Shaun Terry

I’ve been wearing your favorite shirt
for the past five days.
It still smells of rosemary.

 

I met a girl last night.
All I wanted to do was to cry to her,
and talk about you,
but I slept with her, instead,
and I thought about you,
just like the other time,
except that I didn’t sleep with that one-
not exactly.

 

I listened to Duke,
and he says that nothing need change,
but what the hell does Duke know?

 

We lived inches apart,
sucking each other’s breaths,
politely glancing past each other,
taking out each other’s trash,
counting the walls between us.

 

We played a game called,”Who can take a longer shower?”
We both lost.

 

I haven’t written about anything but you
for five weeks now.
And I haven’t seen your eyes
in ten days.

 

So I packed all my things
in my unregistered car,
and I slept
on a stranger’s floor.

 

That’s where I live now,
but I couldn’t tell you
where it is that I’m supposed to call home.

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