Him

When I'm all alone, I think of him
I press his cheeks to mine
I hear the pitter-patter of his feet upon my floor as I lie in bed
I know his middle name and roll it off my tongue in aggravation at empty toilet rolls
I see his dirty socks in the hamper
I feel his chest near mine
I notice his smell sitting alone in traffic
I know his music collection
I know his DVD collection
I know his hopes
His dreams
But I do not have his heart.