The hollowness has learnt to evaporate
as soon as it catches a whiff of the suns
warmth. It stretches under the covers,
untangles itself from around my limbs,
and squelches itself away from my stomach.

It drags itself along the floorboards,
collecting streaks of morning light.
It clings to the curtains, rattling the hooks, but gently enough to not wake the others.
"Sleep well?"

The curtains part and the window mists, my reply lost in the sensation of feeling coming back to my skin like a blush. "I'll see you tonight."

I brush my teeth and ignore the mirror.
Mother informs me that I've forgotten
my words again so I fill the space with
her honey pancakes.

I take the train down to the library
and fall asleep, my head cushioned
on another writers promises
to keep me safe.