The torture of small talk with someone you used to love. The end of a romance that came two years too late, the closure that took three days of intense lovemaking.

They say the past only extends so far, but I bring you into the present with my dreams. Your lovers will always be alive inside of you, some stay with you for your entire life.

My favorite was the beginning, where we'd sleep at your apartment and leave our phones at mine. But I knew you had something to hide, the day you started sleeping by your phone and flipping it over.

Someone infiltrated our shared bed from across the country, I let it happen.

I make art, I move on. I learn new skills, and I still don't care about money. But I can't say that you're not in all of my work, inspiring every brushstroke and word with your mere memory.