The Sock Under the Bed

I found it

last night

your sock

under

the bed

not folded

not paired

just there

like a whisper

of you

in cotton form

dust didn’t ask

for permission

to settle

but it did

just like

you

settled

into

absence

I held it

like proof

of something

we once shared

but never named

funny

how grief

crawls

into corners

never loud

just

quietly

left

behind