Heavy Exhale

Your black cardigan slips from the chair

And gathers softly on the floor

I pick it up by one loose sleeve

Then set it back where it fell

The lamp beside the sofa's off

The kitchen light is still on

A taxi passes through the blinds

And disappears along the wall

Less than an hour ago

We couldn't stop talking at once

Then the lock clicked in the hallway

And every other sound came back

Heavy exhale, after the lock clicks once

The kitchen light stays on

Your cardigan lies by the chair

One sleeve across the floor

Heavy exhale, I hear the clock again

A truck starts somewhere below

The whole night fit behind that door

Then the elevator took you down

Its cables move inside the wall

Then stop somewhere below me

There's water drying near the sink

A cabinet left half open

Your charger runs across the counter

But your phone is gone with you

I switch the kitchen light off

The room changes more than I expect

I turn it back on from the doorway

And pick your cardigan up

The lift has reached the lobby

I see the number holding there

For a second I stand listening

Then take the stairs instead

Heavy exhale, after the lock clicks once

The kitchen light stays on

Your cardigan folded on my arm

As I take the stairs below

Heavy exhale, I hear the clock above

Then lose it floor by floor

By the time I reach the lobby

The automatic doors are closing

Outside, the taxi lane is empty

Rain darkens half the curb

A newspaper van is idling

Across the loading zone

I walk as far as the corner

With your cardigan on my arm

Two red lights fade beyond the crossing

I can't tell which car was yours

The fabric catches on my watch

And pulls one thread along the cuff

I work it loose without tearing it

Under the pharmacy light

The crossing changes while I'm looking

People move around my shoulder

I fold the sleeve back into place

And miss the signal once

Heavy exhale, the taxi lane is empty

Your cardigan across my arm

The kitchen light is three floors up

Still burning behind the glass

Heavy exhale, two red lights disappear

Beyond the next intersection

I don't know which one carried you

I only know they're both gone

The crossing changes back to green

I stay beneath the pharmacy sign

Your loose thread caught against my watch

Your cardigan folded on my arm