the living and the dead

I lie on the floor, I cannot bear
the bed, the sheets, so sweet smelling
soft. I lie on the floor like it is the deck of a ship
before a storm.

the things I used to tell you
no one knows,
the nightmares followed us home, but I like
to think you have learned the secret -

where to begin the forgetting. I
put you in a room like a moth
in a jar, listen for your last breath, open
the door, but you are gone

the scent of burning
hair, the animal fear, the way your
knees brush each other like leaves,
soundless

I lie on the floor, my hipbone falling
between beams, dirty laundry under my cheek,
I fall asleep watching the rise and fall
of my bed.