Because You Left

Dust settles in along the countertops,
Redecorating the furniture to look like overcast
On a 1930’s TV.
What was once a living room is now a morgue
For muted memories, a greenjalihouse for plants
That forbids the morning sun.

Even music feels limp,
Like groaning sighs and drawn out yawns

It’s 43 degrees in May
Come back.