You’ve washed the bathroom wall until it gleams.
It only looked like that when you moved in.
You’ve wiped each shelf. Washed out the garbage bin
so you could eat pate from it. It seems
everything’s done. You check it once again.
The stove’s not on. The bathtap doesn’t drip.
Sometimes when you end a relationship
it’s messy. It takes years before the pain
completely goes.This ending is quite clean.
This was your home. It is not any more.
The landlord’s got the keys. You slam the door.
Some things are what they are, although they mean
other things analogically. Your heart
aches, yearns relaxes. Time now to depart.