I see you in the faces of random strangers. I see you in the music that we once played. I see you in the places we have left marks with. I see you in the coldness of the night and the way the sun breaks the darkness. I see you in the words of old letter and in the paragraphs of phrases we have recited over naked flesh. I see you on the wrinkles of the bed sheet and on the unused pieces of plates and utensils. I see you in the scent of unbathed body and morning kisses. I see you in the mirror - staring back at me, the way you once stared at my hollowness like I was stripping off all of my clothes and offering myself bare, but unafraid. I see you on the corners of my flesh where you left marks of your kisses. I see you on the way memories wither, the way I don’t remember your voice anymore, the way I your touch doesn’t linger anymore, the way I am sober now. I remember you in not remembering.