Yes he was here this morning. She can still smell him on the sheets. Her index finger on his nose as he kissed her palm, stuck there for a moment, air left his lungs, his eyes stayed closed. His neck curved back, my hand on his forehead to steady the storm inside his head.
If you see him today, casual like you only speak and he will whistle at you, only she can hear. He winks, only she sees. He will stare at you, burning a hole through your skin. Your elbows. Your knees. The backs of your ankles. Sometimes your eyes. He looks sad, but content knowing he's been with her now. His leaving is a curious way for him to love.