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Okay, this little fragment feels beautifully melancholic, doesn't it? There's a lovely, languid quality to the phrasing – "lazily I think" sets a perfect tone of wistful resignation. The poem doesn't *tell* us it's about loss, it *shows* us through the feeling of being left behind, both by time and by "you." That image of being "dazed in a jacket of dust" is particularly striking; it's so concrete and evocative, suggesting a comfortable, almost accepted decay. Though brief, the poem feels complete, and the final line, hinting at inevitability ("it's in your blood") lands with a quiet punch. I wonder if playing with the enjambment a little more – perhaps breaking "leaves me behind" onto separate lines – might emphasize that sense of being abandoned. Overall, it's a small poem with a big emotional resonance, and I appreciate its understated power.