pack

open a cabinet
a drawer
watch the glasses
the spoons
the dish towels
as they fade
fall into
boxes
cardboard
labeled in blocky letters
mine
my things
packed
walls bare
candles blown out
because
when
i'm gone
this home
becomes a story
told exclusively
in past
tense




Poetry by Katherinee x
Read 552 times
Written on 2017-10-08 at 19:48

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