the lost man chronicles
the daily chronicle

i do think about you
(for F.M.)

i do think about you
(sometimes, therapy heals)

i do think about you

when Egyptian limo drivers
pick me up from the airport
at midnight and despite
being travel weary, i listen
attentively about how he years to return home

when Mom visits
and i am reminded of my home,
your home, and perhaps,
my hopes, your plans,
to return, eventually;

when lying in bed for two long days
ailing, listless, cold,
all i can think about it
healing—i think of you.

when, i yearn, pine, remember,
the incomparable physical compatibility
i close my eyes;

when i revel, marvel, bask in, and question
my remedial understanding of our amazing mind
i will always think of you.

i do think of you,
just so you know;
just so you don’t think
i don’t.

he never told me
what you told him
the last time i saw you
at the party.

i asked him not to.
i thought, i think—
no need to know,
unless it was meant to

much like time,
and sometimes,

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