-By this Point-

By this point I have slept beside your
empty side of the bed so long
I have achieved my own incline.

Our memories have by overuse all been
polished into set pieces of a play given
nightly to a rapt and ardent audience
of one.

By this point my torid liaison with the cell phone
has reached a codependance unmatched by
any paltry human affair.

I have by necessity replaced your face
with pictures
and transformed all your quirks into heroics.

Even our arguments by now glimmer rosily
in the reflected light of romance; how gracefully
I now recall the dog dish, unexpected guests,
boiled eggs.

By this point I have been so long in open water
I no longer even consider what it is to walk and
all my tricks, blurred vision and horrid pep talks
have all turned stale-I want what is real.

Your arrival lingers so near that everything else,
by this point, has become insufferable.