The 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"