you, who is missing

i lay in the bath
and peel off my nail polish
while the water goes cold
dark flakes float
and sink
and stick to my skin

and i wonder as my fingertips have pruned
shrinking away from the air
if you'd notice the ragged edges of  my cuticles
years of fighting habit to tear them apart
i wonder what the edges of your fingers feel like
or the base of your neck
how you breathe while you sleep

and i can't remember what you smell like
but i remember exactly, your laugh
and what you felt like to be near
when we sat in the sun and sweat in silence
or breathing over jasmine pearls on the brisk mornings
and i'm supposed to find comfort in the moments
graced and burned into my memory
but really, mostly, i just notice how gone you are

it begins always one thing and becomes another