After You Left

After you left I fell asleep, Lost in a web of warm cotton and Sudden space, stretching in your warmth. Your dreamcatcher turns in the morning light, A trace of Eau-de-Cologne hangs in the air. I find a poem by Rilke on your pillow, An open book, almost lost by reading; Ich finde Dich in allen diesen Dingen. But then I lose myself again, outside The traffic has stolen you like a thief.