She rolls over in bed at the soft sound …
his voice; it’s not close – perhaps not even
really there. A conversational tone
with a hint of laughter. Her lips curving
to a smile in her half-awake sleep state.

A smile of memory, a smile of her
remembered desire. As her mind wakes
to it, the smile fades a little – yet
it doesn’t disappear. He hasn’t gone;
just vanished from her immediate life.

He hovers around the edges, a piece
of past she hasn’t let go of – hasn’t
wanted to let go of…not yet – maybe
never. She still holds on – to his smile.