I draw a deep breath,
An empty chair sits in the corner
Hastily scribbled notes scattered
Around the desk, abandoned
Like lilacs in battle filed
Wandering eyes rest among the
Clumped clothes, a black sequined
Scarf pokes pathetically from
Among the ruins of our lives,
Staring at me, accusing me
A half-eaten apple still
Sits on the top the fridge, next
To the owl totems from the time
We visited the dead shaman,
You used believe in
--
The movers are here,
Walking up the narrow stairs
Stomping feet leaving shoe marks,
You so hate, across the Floor,
Our floor
The empty boxes laid in front of me
Forcing decisions I never wanted
To make, what to keep and what
To ditch, how much luggage to leave
For the insidious new occupants
--
Tz
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