Percy

Nate,
I find myself holding your toy Percy in my hands.
Absentmindedly, I am caressing it.
It is cool, not like the warm of your skin. It is not you.
It has weight, but not like you in my arms. It is not you.
I turn it on, the wheels move, but there is no squeal of joy. It is not you.
I can lose myself so easily, holding it closely, but it is not you.