20.6.18

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