Perhaps the most devastating after-happening –
Just a common event –
Was stepping out of the shower
Still numb
Grabbing my towel from the towel bar,
Which knocked yours perilously off-balance

Being then forced to watch
Unable to look away
As it fell –
Not gracefully, or romantically –
But practically, realistically,
Pulled by gravity to slump
onto the floor.

It was both a remnant of you and a mirror of myself;
So recently a possession of yours,
Warmed by you and used by you,
But now left alone
And as the towel quickly forgot your touch, I forgot the previously unmistakable vibe of your presence
Too soon, ashamedly soon, after you left.

Perhaps the most devastating after-thought,
Though,
Was looking at your used towel on the floor and realizing that:
There is no longer a persuasive reason to pick it up