Has been empty going on four years.
Shocking both of us, you unwillingly departed
from a swift illness.
In the beginning, we spooned or you curled
me under your protective wing.
As kids came and jobs pulled at us
we slept fetal back to back.
I cannot invade or starfish your side.
It is sacred space to me.
I yearn to hear the soft sawing
of your breath.
Still saving your space.
I cannot face the finality
of you not slipping under
the covers beside me.