Tonight is a nervous breakdown with line breaks

Tonight,
in the shortest of nights,
No longer than a sigh
I remember your hand on my cheek,
Uncertain, unnerving as
An old postman learning to write
An Email.

Tonight,
I cc an entire
lifetime of inadequate words,
Lost in silence in fear in fatal hope,
In the face of desire.

Tonight,
I remember that I haven’t written to you in a long time.
I have been reading about Non Fungible Tokens,
failing to comprehend the extent of my own fungibility.
I have been running,
pondering the distance between intimacy and love.

For days I have fed pigeons and plants
And caught the evening’s dust in my hair.
For days I have paced my street in mid-afternoon fever,
And found the line between metaphor and madness,
Already blurring.
In my sleep I have touched myself, seeking the sanity of flesh.
I have tried to find new words for all my needless longing.

Tonight,
There is comfort in self pity
And comfort in blather
Tonight,
there is still time for reckless thoughts
and remorse.
Tonight,
I do not know
How many words become a crowd.