I Still Move Over

Your coat is gone from the hallway.
Your glass is gone from the sink.
I erased you from my phone, but my hands are slow to think.
The room has learned your absence.
The walls have let you go.
But somewhere in my sleeping, I'm the last one left to know.
The day believes me.
The night does not.
I lose you slowly, then forget I forgot.
I still move over, like you're lying next to me.
Still leave half the silence where your breathing used to be.
I can tell myself it's over.
I can swear I'm letting go.