Dolour

I am

The dregs in your tea cup

Tepid. Brown

Thrown out; with love

I am

Those old sole-less sneakers

Worn in familiars ways

Forgotten

Moldy. Dusty. Alone.

I am

The dust that settles

Around your memories;

The coffee cup stains

On the table;

The tinny silences

Of a phone

That doesn’t ring.

I am

Your loose change

Forgotten in the cracks,

Amongst the cushions,

Beneath the bolsters

Of our love.