[we are halves]

Aristotle said that we are halves,
searching for each other in the darkness and
i wonder where he is and when he will appear
to fill me up and overflow me with his love

his fingers curl around a dream as i lay
propped on white sheets;
underneath his fingernails and caught
between his teeth is the residue of something tragic
he can't quite put into words

and i search his face for something telling
in the half-darkness of midmorning and press
my hand against the hollow in his chest
searching
for the perfect fit