You came by Tuesday after work.
Took your books and winter coat.
We talked about the plans a bit.
Then stood too long beside the door.
You checked the rooms one final time.
I held your keys while you got dressed.
You said you'd call about the bills.
I nodded though I'd heard the rest.
I walked you down to the station.
You said, "Take care," I said it too.
Your train came and the door slid shut.
I watched until I couldn't see you.
I take the long way home.
Past the cafe where we used to go.
I know you won't be waiting up.