2:30 am, wracked with coughing spells and the shiver of longing. Talking to someone who loves another someone. Seeking love by offering love. Books--dogeared, stacks of them unread. Words just don't seem to make sense lately. In mapping out this reality--of tenuous strings connecting heart to body,  crumpled tissues on the bedroom floor from nosebleeds at midnight, Chinese takeout reeking of future solitary dinners---this reality, where I've stopped hoping for something else, someone else---I've pinned myself. Here. It's nowhere, but it's here.