My old habits of coming back to you:

Waking up in cold mornings only to find
warmth in your long gone arms

Tracing the stars in the night sky only to
notice similarities with your moles and scars

Reading through my favorite lines only to
remember that your words were poetry spoken to me out loud

Embracing silence within my room only to
remind me that this is how we end
that this is where you left
this is where I always try to find you
-in the air of silence