I want to see the light that fills your room. <br />In my solitary torments I have imagined it, <br />pictured its quiet shadows <br />and the spaces made of your fragrant dust. <br />When you go away, <br />surely the sounds you leave behind stay beating, <br />resounding with the colours of your voice, your laughter. <br />The corners of cupboards, the slump of your bed sheets, <br />these are things that store you and hold you. <br />In the emptiness your absence swirls like the air in a glass vase, <br />your moments lie in crumpled up papers scattered in the silence. <br /> <br />I want to touch the awareness of the walls, <br />to know, like they do, when you are there and when you are not, <br />and to hear your clock counting as if it lay on a seabed, alone and timeless. <br />And your curtains, swirling and gaping with mouthfuls of wind, <br />mimicking the hush of your nakedness in the morning sun. <br />Nobody will ever know where your room goes when you are not in it, <br />but I have known and loved where you go when your room is not with you<br /><br />Oliver Roberts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-you-leave-your-room/
