things you leave in my apartment

the scent that i gave to you
that reminded me of you, even before i knew you,
the remnants of half-watched movies
and half-finished cups,

a bracelet dangling on the edge of a piano key,
the summation of desire and pulsation
spilled across jersey cotton sheets,
a note written hurriedly, in pencil,

detailing the psychological advantages
of veins running so volatile in space,
of molecules breathing heavily,
your smell hanging sweetly on my every cell.