I am (not) alone Today

I am alone today,      Alone in a cobweb      with friends clamoring      from the kitchen to the porch.      Alone in the jokes bouncing off antique windows,      alone in my own smiles and laughs, and an ominous feeling      I share with no one. I am anonymous;      as a face in a dark pub      comforting itself      with feigned ignorance,      much like the night before.           Did I fall asleep?  Does it matter?  Do I care?                     It's said:      Time heals, everything arrives at a rightful place.      I know that already, it's hell.           Yet I hope             I want to hope             I need to hope,      if only day to day.      I could write you, express my love in abstractions      though you would not answer back, even if you want to.                     I feel your graceful movements    as real as they always are,      then you kiss me in the awkward moment, and kiss me again.      I say stop, shutdown,      clean off the beer cans      stacked on the glass table           and    you    put    your arms around me                  just before I fall into you           on a white leather couch      because,              I can only hold on from afar,