Every beautiful thing I own
is from you. My stain glass lamp and
my marigold teapot and the blue sweater I wear every day
My coffee habit, my cocky attitude
My job, all the things I say
I dream of
Are all imported, all you  


And just when I think I have wrung myself out fully
Like a filthy dish towel into the sink
I remember
Even my stupid dish towels—
The ones with the strawberries printed on them
and the stains I can’t get out
those are from you too.