Double Take

I imagined that you’d miss me, thought

you’d pace your hardwood floor in odd

worn socks, watch the clock sit stuck,

get late to work, type my name caps lock

press and hold shift/break, miss buses, meals

or sit with fork half-way, lost, for minutes,

hours, sleep badly, late, dream chases, shake

send fingers out to pad the pillow, find

my hollow, start awake, roll over, hug a gap,

an ache, take a walk, damp dawn, of course,

wrapped in a mac with the collar up, glimpse

a slice of face, tap a stranger’s back, draw a blank;

as I have. Each time, I run to press your face

to mine, mine, shining with imagined rain.