#shared days

I thought I threw it all away.

Back then I did not want to be reminded of our days. But the rain has been coming cold And the moisture caused That little under-eaves storage door To swell and bend, so staying annoyingly Ajar, creaking.

When I tried to fix it into place, I saw it: The lost life, all tucked away in a hurry.

'At least I washed the dishes first', I smirked, Looking at the plastic bags with plates, And cups; kitchen utensils, and whatnot; One tends to forget these things When the world is swirling Outside the bed's Embrace.

There were dumbbells, And dust dangling spider silks, And all the books I used study, Thinking I could become someone Else.

Then, the two owl cups: A regular sized tea cup And a large coffee mug.

Same style.

Once, a gift. A gesture.

Two owls, Signaling the coming Of many more shared days.

Look at them, Still sitting next to each other. Still shining Amid all the dust ridden.

Our cups.

I leave them untouched.

Crawl back into my bedroom.

The rain stopped.