There.

I peal off those long hairs
From my dress coat's shoulders
And am reminded of when
It seemed your head had a home
There.

I brush off those small black
Pieces of eraser from the paper
And am reminded of when
It seemed your smile had a home
There.

Now you've left, homeless,
Away from my arms
And gone from my pen,
But you still find the time
To occasionally hide
There.