Forever home

Michelle Agaron || Fall 2020

“you remember everything.”

what you mean is i fill every room with your habits,
polish every floor with the footprints of your apparition,
etch your words into every wall of this inescapable house,
fuse every lightbulb with the essence
of your cold calibrated fluorescence.

i should have settled for candles.

not the battered flickering of a dying lightbulb,
yearning for the season to begin anew,
polished glass body solitary under the spotlight,
searching for a forever home and knowing it wasn’t you.