Told

She needs you, the you
behind my eyelids,
she told me so
and wandered off
busying herself
with making things
from colours collected
in the garden; homespun string,
driftwood, old milk cartons;
fingers busy, looking up
occasionally to check
if I am thinking – I
told you, her eyes say,
don't say I didn't because I did,
glancing over the smoke rings
which might read my mind,
those eyes saying you're
going to get distracted,
and focused, or unfocused, you'll leave
and forget, like you always do,
the I need you, she told me.