Displaced

The house is still now,
seemingly waiting for you,
trailing off midsentence to
listen for your voice, the rattle
of the door, anything that would
herald your approach
Straining, the silence
knows the wait is futile
but waits still, uncomplaining.

A song in the background
croons, "glued together body
and soul" and exhales softly
"never die young" while
you vanish from our lives
a piece at a time and I wonder
if he really knows what it is
he's talking about

Your voice, saying I love you
every time I press the play button
pathetically clinging to what little of
you remains: the copy of your voice, a pillow case
scented with your sweat, an old picture
of us before now...

You were here and now
you are somewhere else
There are no more messes now
no endless parade of cups to
pick up and put away your
last cup of coffee quietly
emptied and quietly washed
things you left in place
returned to their proper homes
all the traces of you slowly fading
as if you did not really live here
did not spend any time here at all