The sun still rose—did you know that?
A dull, indifferent thing,
spilling light over hollow places
that once held your shadow.
They found your coat on the chair,
your shoes by the door,
as if you meant to return.
The air was thick with silence,
the kind that hums in empty rooms,
pressing against the walls
where your voice used to be.
Someone called your name by accident.
Someone set a place at the table.
Someone swore they heard your footsteps
on the stairs.
And I—
I watched the world keep spinning,
watched birds lift into the sky
as if nothing had been lost,
as if the earth had not swallowed
a universe.