It is late and you are gone
and only the gecko remains
hidden somewhere in this room.
With his star-fingered hands
he wriggles across the walls,
making his sad chirping sound
which is his cry and mating call.
When he crawls out to visit,
his pale, transparent body and sad
tail speak to me of solitude
while his dark, vulnerable eyes
remind me of the many nights
he has silently watched over us.
But tonight he is in hiding
and his sad call echoes off the walls
like the clicking of a restless clock -
as if he too were missing you.