we live in the same house
but her soul
has moved and left
no forwarding address

we still talk
of the minor things,
i suppose vacuum demands
such spaces be filled

but of what matters
to each of us
there is barely
a whisper
to sustain the momentum

sometimes
our hands touch,
soft smiles light
through the darkness
like a sad memory
of a distant spring
before the long winter
flickered us into
nothingness

then it is gone

i stopped by her room
tonight
to ask how she was

she replied her life
was tense but bearable
in a tone that told me
to hang out
the do not disturb sign
when i walked away

i wandered back
to my room,
a quiet place
that is mine now

alone