The You You Were

Warmth
Smells so irrevocably
Unlike you;
Strawberries
A field of fresh mown grass
A shower
Wet hair
That drips
Steadily
Onto the back
Of an old tshirt.

The you you were
Smells of the one traffic light
Purposelessly
At the end
Of a short bridge
Above a brook
Who I wish never changed
But does

I look
Always
For your name
Printed somewhere
In automatic size ten
Arial

Midnight
The blue light
That falls
Flickering onto the back
Of a hand
Leaning into stillness
A wry smile
With every
Soft click
Following
The gentle glow
From atop
The books I pretend to read
Mock naturally
On the bedside drawer

You said to try for the wherefor
Not the why
I was
Only smart enough to look
For what was present
And visible
Too afraid of hurting
To ask what was present
And underneath

The you you were
Is checking the post on Sunday
Are the foggy thoughts
On the shower glass
Is that little
Checking For New Messages
Icon
On the bottom of the screen
Let be
Let be