Last 3 letters of the spring

Open the window

The air is forcing remembrance 

Do some laundry:

whites, black and colours piled carefully 

faulding—towels to towels, 

a bunch of lonely socks, sweaters, gym clothes coping mechanisms of a broken home 

I can pretend I know how it goes 

If I open the windows

and give the plants a shower

If I wipe clean the cupboards

And then scrub the oven

All of this just for a second of justice 

A milk white lie saying:

The overwhelm of an early flight 

I think I am not gonna’ make it

Tell me again how fascinating I am

The overwhelm of an early start; too early

sooner than you’d admit 

I’ll move to another country 

you won’t even know 

you’ll say to yourself

“she just left”