they can't find

i buy the most expansive search light.
it comes with a little manual that asks,
"are you okay?" i feed the manual to the goats. 
i do not need anyone to check on me
especially not something cosmic.
i have given up talking to fate a long time ago.
i point that ugly light at the earth & summon
the biggest moths you've ever seen.
their shadows bring more places for 
my hungers to hide. i call you even though
i shouldn't then i burn the phone. 
there are so many things i cannot find
that i have a little vacant room in my house
for them to return to. by them i mean you.
i would take it back, i would grow 
the basil in the window that you wanted.
i would burn the bush & talk to god.
i have been a lost & found keeper. a scarf that smelled 
like butter & a water bottle with stickers
from national parks. no one ever came to search
for that which was gone. i loved knowing
that we would not last. that you were
going & i was going & the window was
brighter than it should have been.
we did not watch any of the movies we
played. instead you let the moths inside.
they ate socks & car keys & my beard. 
i loved it when once you called me 
an ex's name. i had become something
that you had lost. what an honor. the moths 
turn normal-sized whenever anyone else
tries to talk to me. it is morning & they choose
the sun over me. my phone returns
in the beak of a crow. she asks for a tip
& pay her in polaroids. the ones we took
that never developed. black little squares. 
my face beneath a blanket. i am making
a lost & lost room. just a shrine. 
i swallow the batteries from the search light.
let myself glow. fireflies in my eyes.
you are somewhere else. you are
not looking for me.