not you, of course

you come in my dreams all the time

dressed in familiar clothes and fragrances i know

you love me sometimes and sometimes you don’t

and you never wear kajal

sometimes it’s just parts of you

that come to haunt me

your skin your smell your feel

your rib-cage your back your pale heel

last week it was your chimpanzee hands

as you curled up beside me to sleep

this week it’s your calves

and the skin behind your knees

i know they don’t belong to me

and to justify i’d say it’s not you

it’s a woman i once knew

who doesn’t exist anymore