glimpse

sometimes there are whispers
                     in the dark
so i leave a light on in the kitchen.

sometimes things fall
                     in the night
and i never find out what it was.

a cloudy shape, a misty void
at the foot of the bed.

a glimpse of a face in the mirror
from over my shoulder
and down the hallway.

the shape of a person
peaking around the corner
for a split second.
and it is gone so quick
that it is as if it was never there.

a feeling of cold pressure
on my back
when i'm alone at my desk.

a whiff of perfume,
the very scent you wore.

other times
             there are nothing
          but
             memories.

other times
              there is nothing
           but
             cold.

if you ever loved me
            you would go away.