An apartment remembers

bindis cluster on the edge of a mirror

ruby woo clings to a tea cup

a breeze fills out a bra hung to dry

there’s a dip in the couch

a hollow in a pillow

thin slices of well worn slippers

perfume gently fades in an elevator

on a wall, pencil marks trace growing children

cement records a misstep from long ago

she may have gone,

but the house holds onto her.