You feel you
deserve love but never
Your own and
mostly
When you don’t
The floor
and ceiling are sticky with dust
And guilty
fantasies and fantasies
About being
guilty
And a baseball
glove
On your
dresser passively
Catches
sunlight
I remember
you by the objects that sat for months
Watching you
try to fall asleep
Water bottle
and lunch box and toilet paper
And me itchy
in your sheets
Another inanimate
cheerleader
I remember
you
By the dust
that you disturbed
Moving
through ordained clutter
Immovable as
the wisdom buried in your belly
