the phantom limb traces over her cheek. he traces over her lips. the ghost, the echo, the wind pushes against the pane, rattles the door. she turns over and draw the sheets around her, buries herself. he feel the phantom limb touch his arm as he moves out of each room. how useless that extra limb. the house moves through the night and the moon stops it cold. outside a cat huddles behind a tire, paws a leaf trapped beneath the tread.