Your house had gone missing
and it could have been anywhere-

Years later, on the bus, approaching
some indecipherable suburb
you thought of the old, starving
kitchen- left to lie
or to lie about how it once was;
a thrice-leaking faucet,
lonely bacteria huddled in
a tossed-down yogurt cup.

In other spaces, your mother's
foggy crime novel sputtered by
the half-filled bath tub
and crystal bath salts
preached to mould:

There was a time
when we phased out from
the silt of some bare ocean,
though where from
I forgot.

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