Blank Screen

you never touch me 

but

i could feel your warm palms long holding my shoulder

and your fingertips sketching a map 

on my back 

when i was in a deep sleep with a grip on the blank screen that you can’t easily fit your hands in 

i wake up lost,

running around and overthink

probably that is why you 

draw it behind instead,

so i can never read,

like you never left me on,

i can never find you.

you never know my address

but somehow a couple of days 

later you would unlock the door

and lighting the living room with your jokes that you regard as an apology

but it isn’t- 

i have forgiven you. 

that is why i jumped from

inferences and reasons when 

you are about to close with a conclusion after you have taken

your midnight shower

i can no longer afford to wake up

to an empty bed-

and a blank screen.