You walked in past the front desk

Name tag

Nervous little laugh

Said

“You left your tie clip

At my place last night”

You could’ve dropped it with the guard

Or left it sealed inside a bag

But there you were in daylight

In that old blue sweater I like

You don’t get it

(you don’t see)

How a tiny silver thing

Says you were lying next to me

You don’t get it

(you don’t see)

How walking through my weekday

Means you’re tugging on the seams

You just think it’s metal and a spring

You don’t get it

But we do

Back at lunch

They’re trading glances

Forks pause over salad bowls

“She could’ve left it at reception

But she wanted you to know”

Said

“It’s not about the tie clip

It’s the way she said your name”

I replayed your little visit

And it never felt the same

You don’t get it

(you don’t see)

How a tiny silver thing

Says you were lying next to me

You don’t get it

(you don’t see)

How standing by my swivel chair

Is louder than a speech

You just think it’s metal and a spring

You don’t get it

But we do

Maybe it’s a question

She was scared to ask out loud

Maybe it’s a story

She hopes we’re starting now

And I’m there at my keyboard

Heart stuck in my throat

Holding that small clip

Like it’s heavier than gold

You don’t get it

(you don’t see)

How a tiny silver thing

Says you were lying next to me

You don’t get it

(you don’t see)

How walking through my weekday

Means “do you ever think of me?”

You just think it’s metal and a spring

You don’t get it

But I do