My pillow still smells like you. So does my bed.
I rest my head where yours was.
You looked so beautiful
I watched you in and out of sleep. More in than out.
The sun grazing your chest
Illuminating your head where it had bleached your hair and
Creating shadows in the divots which used to be disease.
Used to.
I'm used to it.
Disease. Leaving. Loving.
You are leaving. I am loving.
I am not leaving. I am still here.
On my pillow that still smells like you.
