Left Behind

White Magnolia flickering on the dresser,
undisturbed and indifferent.
Cool breeze coming in from the window,
brushing against my bare shoulder,
like a good spirit caressing me
as I grieve.
Tears pool in the corners of my eyes
when I imagine you walking up the stairs,
slowly and deliberately,
with a winner’s smile on your face,
like you used to.
You always smelled so good.
Do you think of me
when she gets close?
Time and again,
I’d lose myself in the scent of your clothes
and rub my face against yours,
freshly shaven;
I’d surrender to your skillful fingers,
trembling,
tracing your lips in my mind’s eye
through the hills, peaks and valleys –
the territory shared with no one but you.
I trusted your every move,
time and again,
merging with your energy.
Your air has been my favorite place
to breathe;
the warmth of your body
my favorite source of heat.
I could never stop my fingers
from touching you
as you drifted off to sleep…
Do you kiss her goodnight,
just as softly?
We had our summers, autumns and winters;
we made memories that pull me in so deep
I have to come up for air.
Springtime was the season 
of letting go.
This time was no different,
except you chose a different ending.
I remember those cold winter nights,
the fireplace going
and the smell of a candle on the mantel.
Everything was pristine,
silence heavy with desire,
children in bed.
I remember - 
only us.
As my eyelids grow heavy
and mind slows,
the images start to spin faster and faster,
until they pull me into a dream
in which I am still the one
left behind.
I didn’t know
you were leaving.
I thought you were just having a hard time
with life.
I chocked it off to uncertainties and fears
about living life in this pandemic;
resenting me
for trying to do the right thing,
although you said you understood.
I didn’t know
you were leaving,
until I stood there faced with the truth –
she gives you 
what you never even knew you missed
by always almost loving me.