he kisses me
absentmindedly
as if he has better things to do

distracted by whatever
is in the foreword of his inner workings
tick tocking behind his blue eyes (those eyes!)

sketching plans on invisible whims
to catch the first train out of the station
riding heady currents of his singular thoughts

he has slept in my bed
for a thousand years
dreaming things
that have nothing to do with me

what has love got to do with it

everything