and you were still here.
i could see you standing by the window
opening the drapes to let the morning sun in
in the kitchen, standing in your faded pink cotton panties
hovering over the coffee maker
waiting to swoop
in the bathtub filled with apricot bubbles
extending your hand drawing me in.
i could smell you as i rolled over into my pillows
on the towel after my shower
and over the vanity your musk oil in the air.
i could feel you everywhere i walked
in everything i did.
Looking at my bookshelves, seeing you thumbing the pages
shaking your head, complaining about my interests in politics
and in my fiction
your fingerprints on my monk cd's, worn down as a vinyl album comes
after hours of endless playing.
You are everywhere.
And you are gone.
i am moving from here, taking with me nothing but a simple change of clothes
and the onyx ring i have had since a teen.
Everything else here will stay
to be used or disposed of at will.
For you see;
i cannot bring anything else with me
for everything i own
after all these years