We take turns at sleeping in an empty bed,
wondering if the other dreamt of us today.
I respectfully leave your side untouched,
ready for any chance that you'll be home again.
We are ghosts for each other,
very real in memory but hazy, forgotten, incorporeal.
I say "I love you" to your sleeping face every day,
knowing I won't see you in the evening when I return.
It's amazing how two people's lives can exist
under one roof, and yet never intersect.
Two people share an empty bed; and yet,
never a sound heard nor a single word said.