Bottles of medicines –
Empty now and lying there –
The last of your shampoo
I used on my hair.

The black comb
You forgot to take –
The socks in the drawer –
Careless mistakes –

The pop socket broke –
We bought it, us three –
These little, last things
You won’t ever see.

I hold on to them
Like pieces of a heart,
And wonder when
The moving on shall start.