What She Left Remains

A red wine stain stays seared into the wooden grain — the table keeps watch how their laughter filled the room last time they were together Jellybeans loiter on the shelf in cookie jar I wish none remained — better emptiness than this waiting for sweet that's hollow Perfume on pillows, a scent that's too strong at times still wafts through the air — sometimes the scent warms the room often it dampens the mood Burn marks scar the trays where scones were baked lovingly await scraper's blade — to erase fond memories of toppings with jam and cream Much-loved song lies poised in the player seldom used my choice, not hers now — ready to play her music to ignite the glow we shared No flowers drying only books she left behind — in the bookcases that still cups the curve of hands that held them by candlelight Mailbox yawns empty no letters, no messages no texts, likes on screens — she deleted her accounts no one home, got no reply So much left to clean to pack, stack, clean and carry yet I leave it still — for the mess is a mirror that keeps her ghost in the room