I still hear the creak
as if my heart is under your step.
Have I learned the shape
of your leaving?

The mattress slowly forgets
your warmth.
Echoes of laughter
ricochet in my mind.

Tears taste like desperation,
holding a sign that reads:
“Anything helps.”

One indentation of your pillow.
The ghost of your hand tracing my spine.

A final viewing
so our love can
rest in peace.

Maybe I can move on.

I tremble,
squeezing the tremors from my hands.
My tongue is loose and throbbing.
It swells inside my mouth.

I shake my fist in the air
and threaten God with violence.

I throw dirt and roses
over love’s grave,
and choke out a prayer.

How do you bury what’s still alive
inside of you?