I have grown accustomed to your body
next to mine.
I imagine its curving skin
touched by my hands
gently.
I am alone in my bed,
tossing and turning,
reaching out
to touch you,
grasping at the image of you.
I speak to the image
and pretend the response.
I am a child
with a peanut-butter smile
playing Cowboys and Indians,
in a back yard
filled with monsters
and scary things.
I fear being alone
and I am frightened to be near you.
I love wanting you
and being wanted by you.
Do not be
away
very long. 