when she leaves for work,
i'm left in the absence of wonderful wild spirit.
i tidy up the covers we slept on together peacefully & arrange the stuffed animals.
they look happy that we no longer dominate the bed with our talking and laughter, they watched us enviously from the floor the night before.
i wipe down the counters lightly, coated with dust, & vaccum the floor. i assume my mother would be surprised at the sight of me after i proclaimed "i will never fall in love!" as a 10 yr old.
i go downstairs and wash our dishes from the dinner the night before, remembering how each cookware served us, & how goofily we waltzed in the kitchen ballroom.
the day is bright and sunny, even if it isn't.
as i take out the trash on my way out, i commute to my house
where she'll be for the rest of the week.