I begin where I left off. One day in front of the other. Step by step I walk through my house, cleaning corners of the dust that lingers there. I wash the curtains in the bathroom. I take out the garbage. My heart reminds my head; sometimes we find symmetry playing opposites you and I. So the mind focuses on the task while the heart sits on the couch, curled into a fetal ball, shedding loss in sweaty layers like a breaking fever. She sometimes skips and smiles and sings because she, the heart, carries the intuition. While stepping outside to take a drag off my cigarette, head turns to heart and says, come outside, take a break with me, I’ll hold you in the sunlight. Heart digs the sentiment and we step outside.