Unsure

I watch a cockroach crawl across the lace scallops on the bottom of my bra

the part where your fingers used to trail softly, I try to hold back tears

Unsure
if I am crying  because of you
or the roaches

maybe it is only that I can write comparisons
how you both touch my intimate things/thoughts
 
touch me while I sleep

that bring tears.

You are gone        
the cockroach remains
Your touch no longer covering his

my relationship with the roach
now more intimate
than the one I shared with you.