The Things Left Behind

His sock hangs off the edge of bed, 

rumpled sheets flinging

it aside long-legged jeans peek out 

from the pillow, unfluffed 

and lean, a blanket trails a blue 

question mark on the floor.

A journal spills interrupted dreams 

everywhere 

books dribbling pages littering pencils

So quiet

only a sigh of wind whispers behind the curtain

Ghostly motion

unbodied motion  Holding its breath in the empty room

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Thanks for writing!
Jacqueline