To Be Naked Without You Poem by Cat Singh

The other night, you said
that you were still in love with them
even though they were not in love with you,
meaning that you definitely
were not in love with me anymore,
which is fine.
I don't want you to love me
anyway.

You said that to get rid of the things
that reminded you of them,
you'd have to get rid of all the clothes you own.
You'd have to cut off your only tattoo.
You'd have to change your name
and stop thinking altogether.

I wanted to tell you
that my whole body still reminds me of you.
When I hold someone's hand,
I still think of how we always
laced our fingers together wrong
and had to fix them afterward.
When someone musses my hair,
I think of how you used to scratch my head
like I was a dog.
When I am naked without you,
I wonder why I still have a body at all.

You took me in the mornings
like I was your alarm clock
on the first day of vacation.
Now I am just drool on the pillow.
My body was like the darkness
in your room at night
or a pet at the end of your bed.
It was natural to you,
a part of your life you didn't question.
It was yours.

But now
you call me at night to tell me
how much you love them,
which is fine.
I don't want you to love me
anyway.