~~
her absence is a hum

beneath the streetlight.

it slips through my curtains -

silver,
never soft enough

to hush my thoughts.

give me a break.

...

her name is a wind,

caught behind my ribs,

blowing through

the rooms i built for her

but never locked.

...

every breath feels borrowed,

taken -

like she left it behind

by accident.

like her smile,

still living in the quiet

between my heartbeats.

...

the bed forgets

how to hold me right,

how to put me to sleep.

some nights,

loneliness is a second pillow.

other nights,

it’s her voice -

curled up

where my dreams should be.

but they aren’t.