HERE IS A PLACE FOR YOU
say there is a place left on the cream armchair that used to be covered in cat fur, indentation still warm, and it's empty.
here is a place for you.
say there is a place left on the bright red porch table covered with yellow-green pollen, kibble scattered on the ground, and it's empty.
here is a place for you.
say there is a place left in the bright-blue pool and at the worn wood table where you colored with me and in the bag of plastic lanyards we braided together, and it's empty.
here is a place for you.
say there is a place left on the wicker rocking chair on the screened-in patio and on the hard wooden bench at the taco restaurant, grackles pecking at crumbs, and it's empty.
here is a place for you.
but there is also a place for you in the damp stone sewer where we found you and on the cold metal table where we left you and in a box at the front of the sky-lit church and right next to your husband, six feet under.
here is a place for you, and here is why you're not here with us in the place we left for you.
