my best friend

you leave the clothes that
i loaned you, folded neatly on
the bed, and i buy you
a toothbrush

for the first time in
almost two years, i have
someone to text that
i’m on my way home from
work, and fuck, i missed that

and the door is unlocked,
this time, but that’s okay
because that means you’ll
be there to grin up at me
from the blanket nest on
the kitchen floor, and ask
me how work was 

i thought about you,
while peeling potatoes,
like taking you out to
dinner and a movie,
walking you to the door after

and i’m not writing a love
story here, just trying to
convey that you are known,
and seen, and loved

and my hands are a little shaky now,
but i’m still pretty handy with a needle,
so won’t you let me sew your most jagged edges down?