I walked past the house
we had joked about.
you said you'd paint
the door blue to match
the seaside view
and I said we'd upholster
that armchair.
it would sit by the window
and you replied,
"where would my books go?"
I laughed, "we'll make space!"
as we walked on without haste.
I hope, in another universe,
we bought this house and
did all the things
we talked about.
but you moved cities
last june
and I stayed here
with the memories of you.
YOU ARE READING
unlit matches
Poetrycome and listen to the whispers of lions and the cries of fawns.
