the sunflower

my eyes open with the dawn
breaking, my arm vanishes
into the crevice that
is your space in
my bed.

i hear droplets of water from
the shower, but only
your heat remains,
and a whiff of
lavender.

i trail off into the kitchen
the cold floor and
stale coffee are
witnesses to
my passing.

i fly to the window, hoping,
but there is none,
not even an echo

of the echo of
your name.

i pass the hours looking at
the door, but the
knob remains
silent with
your prints.

i lay on the bed with the moon
in my eyes and my arm
presses, a crevice,
your space in
my bed.


.

the sunflower

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