Sottovoce

Detail from Docile Bodies by Patricia Arnillas

if… when you go

something remains of you

besides the glimmering absence

of your voice

carried like stardust

on the air

of a warm and calming

summer night

if… i mean to say

something remains of you

besides the skeletal shudder

of my half-opened windows

agitated like a ghost

in the gust

of a cold and biting

winter storm

if... something

and only if

i’ll know that

absent as you are

you are yet here

in

the clack of shoes

on the pavement

the glide of rain

on the ground

the caress of a lock’s tongue

to its housing

in

my breathless wait

for the flame of the candle

to spark

at the sound of your key

twisting inside the door

in

anticipation of your voice

to enter

to cast

its beloved shadow

in hushed whispers

upon the whitewashed walls

of my expectant heart