I lost him

As I walk away
I imagine him watching me
wishing me to look back.
I didn't.

As I settle beneath the sheets
my mind absorbs his sentiments
dripping through the ether,
he soaks in my sadness
unravels his curtness,
whispers, "I'm sorry..."

What coarseness remains
after understanding flows
through the sieve of judgment
and is discarded?

I feel myself crossing a cusp
slipping, sliding down
half-awake half-dreaming,
our connection dissolves
though I resist,
my concentration wanders to other men.

The universe served up my exes
one by one, on the bus,
on the street, in the bar
they changed too late
from unavailable to available.
Time made me lose interest.

Until then
I have to remind myself,
he was aware
and deliberate.