You had gone, leaving stuff:
a sock, two cotton handkerchiefs,
a cd with a cracked cover,
a giant coffee mug and me.
Dust was collecting on all of us.
Numb we stared at each other.
Waiting. One day you would need your mug.
Now it is Spring. I opened the window
and fresh air is entering the orphanage.
I caress the crack on the cd cover,
and throw it away with the sock and the handkerchiefs.
I keep the mug. And myself,
if you don’t mind. To remember you
and whom you never were.