I forgot which hand you write with.
I heard our song on the radio and felt you
in my chest
lukewarm tendrils clutching around nothing
for the first time
in a long time.
And I thought about
writing you a note.
But if you wrote me back
what hand would you use?
In trying to recall those times when
you’d drape your left arm on the back of your chair and it occasionally would
rest on my desk
a second home
so you could write
spindly letters with your right palm
I remembered then
over and over
of how you so wholly broke
my heart