This Is What Giving Up Looks Like, I Guess

I walk by the library,
through Bryant Park,
just hoping to run into you,
even though I wouldn't know what to do.

I would probably just shake
or stutter
or try to be cool
and not fat,
but I like to learn the hard way.

I take the rare train
and walk around Park Slope
and Prospect Park,
hoping the same stupid, silly things.

I have no space
and you have no time,
and I know I know
that this bullshit
for the business of love,
long gone.

I sit on the bench
in Union Square,
hoping you will be there,
but you're not
and that says a lot.

I forget altogether
that we existed
and the frightens me the most
because it means
we are ghosts.