Beloved

Since the air today has been cold,
the tiled floor radiates chill.
I remember blue warmth rustling in this silent space.

I doubt that the steps you made across this cool floor remain.
I would collect your imprints.

I practise standing in all the places I remember seeing you -

In my imagination you are still here, beautiful back to me.
Again and again I stand, rooted,
transfixed by your perfect shoulder blades.