What We Leave Behind

We did not break in anger,

no storm,

no slammed doors.

Only a slow unraveling,

like threads slipping quietly

from an old sweater.

.

I watch you stir your coffee,

circles dissolving into circles,

as if you could find

the shape of us

at the bottom of a cup.

.

Once, your laughter filled this place—

it hangs now like dust

in the corners of memory.

I want to reach for you,

but my hands are heavy

with all the words we never spoke.

.

Outside, the rain is clearing.

The world goes on.

We stand, we leave,

two ghosts passing

through the same door,

into different tomorrows.