Sleepless

An hour after your tires left deep treads in my driveway
I was still standing half-naked in the doorway
Staring into the rain
Believing if I watched long enough, something might actually feel different.

Three weeks’ time and it was as if you’d never been here
Your fingerprints had worn off my doorbell
and your tire tracks had melted back into the earth
All you left behind was a bottle of shampoo and me.

Still, some drowsy 3AMs would pull me from bed to stare out my front door
My eyes anchored way out in the darkness
Expecting any moment your headlights would reappear at the end of my drive
And you’d be in my arms sleeping to the sound of raindrops.