i. you are a locked attic in the haunted house of my heart. i thought i’d thrown out anything living but sometimes i still hear your ghost rattling our old picture frames.
 
ii. i dream up a thousand universes in which you are here. when i wake, i write down what you said to me and call it poetry. but no matter how many pretty metaphors i bleed, i can never get your voice quite right.
 
iii. fact: there is nothing worse than aloneness. what i mean to say is you were my island and now i’m trying to swim. what i mean to say is our song is still the only one i hear on the radio, even when i change the station.
 
iv. i once looked up the meaning of heartache, trying to put it into words i could understand. the dictionary definition was only your name.