Your jockeys found their way into my laundry
your necklace discovered beneath a cushion
it's
around my neck now
the friendship bracelet of
purple, red, gold, and green
carefully knotted, I see
your smiling face
as I
taught you
it's about my left ankle
Your report card slipped into the discover magazine
between the pages of an article on the effects
of
prozac on the brain
his things are broken
accidently dropped
smashed into thousands of bits
I thought it would help (it doesn't)
I still sit by myself eating a microwaved baked potatoe
that has no taste
and stare at the boxes of unopened photo albums
and the empty space on the clothesline where your bathingsuits used to hang
and listen to the echoes of your sibling spats that still linger
and the whispered I love you's
and the I miss you's
over telephone lines.