(what you've left behind)

Just last week you walked through my door with
Arms full of groceries, filled the fridge with my favorite zucchini,
Kombucha, leeks, huge portobello mushrooms (which you claimed
Are so much better than the white ones)

Just last week you were here at my house in the forest
Making me laugh, warming my back with your camper van heater
You must have gone to the grocery store the day the rain came
Disrupting the wifi, sending us both to new places

That’s right, it was last Friday you carried groceries and love
through my door, and I marveled at you in your beauty
We vowed not to have sex and did anyway, climaxing at the same time
We were just getting our timing right

Two months ago you walked through the door with a pink orchid and
Peace lily as offerings to warm my house, I watered them today
I am still finding your curly black beard hair on my clothes, in my bed
The carnival toy you gave me on Saturday is sitting in my lap

I am slowly eating the last of the groceries you brought home
Made scrambled eggs for breakfast yesterday with the portabello,
Cut zucchini into shakshuka for today’s meals
I am sipping the kombucha as I write this poem, while
One pomegranate remains on the kitchen countertop

Outside is the car you drove me to buy just one month ago
You sat in the passenger seat during the test drive,
Asked a zillion questions, and later we got into a fight that
Would be the tipping point for you saying goodbye

I thought we were just getting started, honey
I wanted to build this house with you
Now the house is nearing complete, artwork up, plants watered
but you are gone
You are gone but I still see you in everything