Ghost

Silence opens my eyes.
Downstairs, the HVAC stops. No whistle, hum, quacks. Quiet.
My leg shifts over yours, ear presses against the pulse in your throat,
ka-thump, ka-thump, lulls me back to sleep
You kiss the top of my head, arms tighten around me
fingertips skim my surface to dream state.
In a few hours, our restless skin will wake us.
Not the silence, the silence that opened my eyes, no.
It opens them again.
The silence of your absent heartbeat
cold under my leg where your heat should be
the nothing around me.
I swear I feel your hands...
smell your ghost in my sheets...
The HVAC clicks back on. Outside, it starts to rain.