I find photos
I google you
I google you
you were in
says you’ve found somebody new
somehow it never makes the pain
I fear
and type your name again

should let you fade
And I’m pleased your name is practically unique
I’ve watched you dance
That I gather
when the day is done and everything is through
But it’s too easy just to fold
but instead….
I Google you
put up by your friends
but there’s that box
I know that I
And each scrap of information
Written by Neil Gaiman
And it really shouldn’t matter

you’ve forgotten
it’s only you and
late at night when I don’t know what to do

and there’s your name
the structure of the sun
that you kept
I read your journal
grow less or fade or disappear
I’ve read each one
that month in France
a would-be PhD in Chesapeake
I think that I should save my soul and
who writes papers on
I Google you
ought to blow up my computer
I should crawl back in my hole
Whenever I’m alone and feeling blue