light
Nokyoung Xayasane

I wake up in your bed
to watch the sun rise
over the water,
at the water’s edge.
You are there
beside me.

In my mind,
I remember
when I rested my head
on his shoulder,
when I laid my hand
in his lap.
I exhaled ever so slowly
I inhaled ever so deeply
and we knew
what it was
to know someone.

In our bodies,
I remember
the love
of a new morning
when a day began
beside him,
his gentle breathing
filling the room
before light
quietly begins its tiptoe.

The sky,
it begins to light up,
a sliver along the edge
of the world emerging
along the plane of time.
I look back at you
from the foot of the bed,
but I can’t see you.
I squint
but I can’t see you.
You are hidden
in my memories
of that love,
that love
that was once lost
to the open sea.