while resting,
and can't not see you
in Detective Amy Santiago.
I found all these
adorably awkward voicemails
you left me
five years ago or more.
I check your blog,
nada,
always
nada.
This isn't a poem;
it's a pathetic plea
for you to reach out
to me.
I was hiding in an old life
and you really brought me out of it,
so I hope I can make you laugh again.
My heart has no pity on me,
hence the nostalgia,
and I would really like to read
your poetry.