do I still haunt the
                    air
at that house? do you see me
stretched out on the floor
in front of that coffee
table you built,
does my laugh echo out
from the
bedroom, do you smell
my shampoo on that one
white blanket I loved so
much, do you hear me
softly
whisper "hey" when you
walk past the studio, do
you go around the place I
stood in the middle of the
kitchen on the Fourth of
July and accidentally



dropped

my lemonade on
the carpet? does
                                    anything
remind you of me?