left, right?

I forgot which hand you write with.

I heard our song on the radio and felt you in my chest

lukewarm tendrils

clutching around nothing

for the first time, in a long time. And I thought about writing you a note.

But if you wrote me back, what hand would you use? In trying to recall those times when

you’d drape your left arm on the back of your chair and it occasionally would

rest on my desk

a second home

so you could write spindly letters with your right palm

I remembered then, over and over

of how you so wholly broke my heart.