Absence at Home

Tripping over a towel this morning,

i stop and kneel to pick it up,

that damp corner of the floor,

reminds me of all that’s left behind.

Loneliness surges like an unexpected wave,

every crumpled fabric clings to shadows,

as if it holds the weight of all my thoughts—

that brief moment, tangled in the fabric,

wanting to sweep away the chaos,

but what if I didn’t want it gone?

What if it held the memories,

droplets of laughter, tiny mistakes?

In this clutter, I find a fragile peace,

my heart lingering in spaces

that hold the absence I carry.