in the morning I stretch
in a bed wide as an orange peel
and deep as the base of a sunflower.
coming home I found
a pillow on the sandalwood floor
and knew you had been here,
slipping in with your key
to test the echoes of your absence.
I pick up the pillow
trace the wrinkles you left behind
then lie on the floor and dream
that I’m alone in a space like a birth.