11/30

When you never woke up,
I crawled from the pool of light at your feet
and leapt from the bed.
I wandered from the room, keeping close to every wall,
looking back at the door frame
whining.
I tore apart your gym bag
shredded your favourite tearaways
chewed the wiring of your squash racquet
till I found your deodarant.
I nudged it against the counter
until it sprayed across the floor,
I watched as we floated in the mist in the kitchen sun
my nose running up your spine
as you towel off from the shower
As the scent blooms
the apartment is soaking with you

every moment of abandon
in the hidden quiet of this home
is vanishing in this mist.

The windows are open,
all of your whispered surrender
is catching the afternoon breeze from this room.

I am on all fours
at the temple of my once-body
the childhood tomb I crawled from
when my limbs found a heart to yield to.
That moment when,
amidst the flurry of only-nights
you cry out under the weight
of an always.
And just like that,
you get it.

In mere seconds, the shrouded shape of you
is gone through the mosquito screen.

My whine becomes a howl
as I watch you leave without me.