Today I sold our couch.
The one you picked up on your own
Shoved haphazardly in the back of your blue hatchback
It saw three houses, and sat dormant in the last, until the end of us.
When I camped out in the guest room, silent, mourning.
Did you know I was mourning?
How could I blame you for not knowing,
When I became wordless, paralyzed by the idea of killing us off.
Of letting us go.
I sold it today.
And then I went to brunch.
Every time I sell a piece of you and me
I toast to you, silently.
This time a cranberry mimosa
I let the ice cubes roll around in my mouth
And there was barely room for them in there
Among all of the things unspoken
That I hold behind my tongue.