You hated visitors but loved their shoes
For so many years you slept a
small still weight by my restless feet.
When I got up you would claim
my spot, leftover warmth, a cuddle.
In the end you who were silent
cried out waking, sleeping, lost, alone.
I would hear and nudge you gently,
not knowing if you were awake, asleep?
To let you know I was always there
awake, and with you in the dark