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I watch the wind fold itself into the empty shape of you, lingering in the corners, tucked into the seams, a ghost that isn’t a ghost, but still - the air bends around it. a kettle sings itself to sleep, the moon forgets my name, the bed swallows whole the missing weight - but love is a warm coat left hanging by the door, a room that still holds its breath long after the footsteps fade. 5 22 5 18 25 2 15 4 25 1 3 20 12 9 11 5 20 8 5 25 3 1 18 5