Residue

Your loofa hangs beside mine,  

untouched

I leave it there

a small, soft witness

Your towel still drapes the hook

I haven’t washed it

Not out of hope,  

just habit,  

or something like it

I can’t tell if your ghost  

softens the ache  

or keeps it alive

Do I even ache? 

Maybe not 

I can’t quite find it

I haven’t made breakfast in awhile 

Or anything, really

The sinks stayed mostly empty since you left

At least there’s nothing to clean

I open the fridge

Close it

Still empty

I wasn’t hungry anyway

The crying stopped, mostly 

I don’t feel heavy

I don’t feel light

I don’t feel much, unfamiliar 

I don’t let myself get too close  

to your voice in the morning

“hello darling, how did you sleep?” 

I don’t leave space for you on the couch

I learned that part

But the stretching out is nice 

Sometimes I sleep on your side of the bed

No reason really 

Because it’s empty

Because it was yours

I move a bit slowly through the house

I let things gather

A little bit of clutter and time

Grief? Perhaps just proof you were here 

It’s not that I’m waiting for you to come back

But I thought friends we could remain 

I’ll be quiet now about my day, 

Not sure you want to hear it anyway

It took me too long to understand  

you had nothing left to say

But I am slow 

Stubborn

Tender in ways that don’t help