It was a Tuesday when it happened
You walked through the door
as if I was never here
As if we never were
I counted the times
the acacia tree branch knocked
on the stained glass window by our bedside
I hoped it was you knocking
through that door on a Tuesday morning
because I am still here
Another Tuesday
my eyes still locked on the floor
where your shadow used to be
when you walked through that door
as if I was never here
because we no longer are.