Rummage
through Christmas decorations
headed for the garage

forced  order  
onto random bits  and bobs
a long forgotten bag
yields a wrapped bar
of motel soap
at the very bottom
who's very existence
spins me in a split second
backwards
to  all those days and nights
of our tragedy

How did I ever survive this thing?
Have I yet?

it offers  me no real answers

just continues
to look crisply unused

and wildly
out of place