My boyfriend (not boyfriend)
Lives in my phone and my dreams
Sending me pictures of his day
Robots half built and gray, industrial to their core
Soccer practices interspersed with gym selfies
Video games he’s ashamed of (Fortnite, it’s always Fortnite)
And his body always, sometimes in the shower and often faceless
All a gallery into his life
My boyfriend (not boyfriend)
Didn’t always live in my phone
He used to live down the road
He used to take me out for dinner and make me coffee
Iced caramel macchiato with almond milk made with a type of love (more than friends less than lovers) and 4 shots of espresso
“Your usual”
“How much?”
“Don’t worry about it”
We both left that café in the past
My boyfriend (not boyfriend)
Used to kiss me in the gazebo in the park
In the café, behind the café, on my couch, against a grave
Almost all the way
Always almost
My boyfriend (not boyfriend)
and I broke up twice times (we never dated)
But he comes over to my side of town just to walk
Just to talk
And for a while he isn’t in my phone
His hand is in mine
His lips are on mine
And then he’s gone
And no longer my anything
I Wait For Death Like A Soldier's Wife 
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