if tables could talk
they’d echo all the life I once knew
they’d tell you I take my coffee black
and my friends seriously
they’d chant the names I no longer call
and share the stories I no longer tell
if chairs could speak
they’d say I sit with my legs crossed
right over the left
they’d tell you how my feet burn when I sing
how my hands tremble when I dance
how the world spins ever valiantly
around the four corners of this couch
where I lay on nights the bed feels too vacant
if stairs could scream
they’d yell from heights I never could take
and count the steps I never did make