Blackout

Yet another blackout

in our little old town,

I lie beside you,

my hand in yours,

tasting the salt

of sideways tears,

the bedsheet damp

beneath my cheek.

Blink.

More tears.

Sniffles.

Sigh.

The phone rang,

just the other night,

"Your mother is no more,"

the doctor said,

so certain,

so matter-of-fact.

And just like that,

you were gone forever.

The light returns

but not you.

My tears dry,

but my heart does not.

I search for you

in every place I go.

Sometimes,

I catch a shadow,

a silent echo,

walking beside me,

breath synced with mine,

like that time

you held my hand

and never let go.