today i squinted at my newly-lit christmas tree and i was shocked when i saw you in the twinkling stars that squeezed between my half-closed lids.

last night i saw alison krauss and on her lip gloss was the cover you recorded the afternoon i was decorating my bedroom with colored lights.

so i listened to her song, and hung up the lights, and in the shower i carelessly heard the phrase "last year we were together," even if we weren't.

if you think for a second that i pass these days without remembering the photograph of you kneeling barefoot on your floor, or the song you wrote for me on a long friday afternoon, or sitting on the pool table next to your roommate eating chips while you showered, well. you aren't thinking at all.

and i know you better.

where did we go?