Last night
the moon shown through the blinds
illuminating the vast emptiness
of our . . .
of my bed.
Since you left
I have clung to the safety of the edge
afraid of the emptiness
afraid to feel lost without you
afraid to not leave a space for your return . . .

Last night was one year
to the day
since you left
I do not think
you are returning . . .

Last night
I stretched across the emptiness
claiming it
filling it
anchoring myself, defiant, in the desert of my sorrow.

Now the only emptiness left
is in my heart.