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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