when he gets home

and when he gets home
he will tell you
that the dust in your weary eyes
made him look elsewhere
for a twinkle that was once there

when he gets home
he will say to you
the webs on your scalp
made his fingers run through
the fresh curls of another
like the ones you used to have

when he gets home
he will tell you
that the silence between your teeth
had him out searching
for your missing laughter

when he gets home
he will say to you
that the wrinkles on your fingers
sent him to softer hands
like the way you used to brush his skin

when he gets home
he will tell you
that the limp his own body gave him
was of your doing
that a cure was elsewhere

when he gets home
tonight
reciting all the things
you no longer gave him
and the smell of all the places
he had found them
when he gets home
you’ll be long gone
finding all the things
he could no longer give you