vuoto sedia
i can feel the way you painted italy
the hills and grass and grapes
drinking in the detail
swishing it around
and spitting it out
and i can feel the way you held the needle
pulled thread through the eye
and stitched together your quilt
with even strokes
i never looked at your things as if i wanted them
they were yours
so when it came time to empty your house
my arms filled with
chairs
paintings
china
i could feel you slipping away
breaking
like that cup i dropped
when my eyes were unfocused
on the dark and empty corners of your living room
i stare out the window
your quilt draped across my lap
and i drink a cup of tea
(the one we never shared)
and you’re teaching me to paint italy
to swish it around
to spit it out.
