Your side of the bed is empty

Oven glove

Hairband

Yoghurt pot

Fork.

A controller. Is this chutney? A notebook and pen

Plumping up and straightening, grumble-mumbling “..not again..” 

The day

is at

its end.

Slippers slide
Towards the stairs
Glasses back in case
Tired eyes
Where’s the switch?
Leave laptop in its place.

A tread, a trudge, a push against
The door. It whispers back.
Abandon slippers, clothes to floor.
Clamber into sack
Eyelids
bloodred black

With eyes closed.
Out of sight,
               my hand crawls right
Oh

Listen. I
Miss your sigh,
your random snore,
Polite;
Parted lips and
      Finger tips

Turn out the light