The bedroom smells of perfume and powder
I wade through the colours of my clothes
half on their hangers

You are gone, you lie on the ground
compelling with all your love
on a photo of your arms
around me

You, the king, you wanted me
to be queenish, not indomitable
like a scratching cat

Everything is neat and tidy again
I have my wardrobe put in
and the other one
completely free