i never knew an empty house
until i realized i didn't have to step twice
with my right foot
on the last stair before i
closed the door.

& i never knew silence,
though i think i thought i did,
until the night the kitchen light burnt out
& i sat alone til morning
in the glow of the old refrigerator.

& i never knew shock i guess
until the day they handed you to me
in a box that fit too well in my hand
& their I'm sorrys were silenced
as i shut the door mid-sentence.

knowing you were in that box hurt almost as much
as feeling your body go still in my hands.

i'll miss your eyes very much, &

i will always step twice with my right foot
on the last stair before i close the door.