]We sleep side by side,

yet there’s a mile of silence between our skins.

Fingers brush by accident

never intention,

never longing.

Once, your eyes undressed me

with a single glance.

Now, they skim past me

like headlines you’ve already read.

Like I am familiar,

but no longer urgent.

The couch has grooves we carved together,

laughter once lived there

now it’s just a seat

for strangers with shared memories.

I miss the touch

that wasn’t always physical

the kind in a lingering “how was your day,”

or the pause between a kiss and sleep.

Now, we talk logistics,

not love.

You pour coffee.

I fold clothes.

We orbit the same routines,

but never collide.

And I wonder

Is it worse to be alone,

or to feel lonely

next to someone

who once made you feel

like the only heartbeat

in the world?