You took everything that morning…
I called you on it. Asked you if you were moving out.
I could only look at my feet then.
“Out of your closet?” you said and laughed again.
“I didn’t take everything,” you said, “I left the comfy shirt.”
“I… have to get a lot of dry cleaning done,” you said.
I heard the hesitation, slight as it was.
You were moving out.
And I was speechless in convincing you to stay.
That was our last night together.
The last night I would scratch your head while you fell asleep.
The last night watching reruns, getting lost.
The last night I would curl into the bend of your arm.
The last night I would press my back into your chest
to count out the tempo of our hearts beating separately.
That should have been my first clue…
It became obvious when I leaned up to kiss you goodbye.
You turned and my lips found purchase.
Against the rough of your beard.
A stray tear made its way out and away.
You never noticed.
My door was already closing.
And the last thing I heard you say
was see you after eternity.
Eternity sways in a corner.
Next to a comfy shirt.