I Miss Home More Than I Miss All Of My Exes

Someone new is living in my home now

Gazing out the kitchen window every now

and then

To catch the sunlight between third and fourth floor

or watch my neighbour water her gardenias

Someone new is sun bathing on my terrace now

I hope they’re beautiful and tall

spreading their arms like seagull wings

to suntan and morning breeze

I hope they wave with a chuckle

with unrestrained expectancy

to the boys across the street

Musicians and fellow writers

who gather on the Conservatory’s steps for one last cigarette at noon

Someone else is sleeping in my bedroom now

their weight leaving prints in the sheets

the way bodies form small sweat colonies on a mattress

the way breath fills up the rooms with fog in winter.

Someone new is walking through my living

I hope their heels make songs on the marble

I hope they have plenty of guests

in the midnight air,

the way laughter fills up mirrors and walls and glasses

the way hair clogs the shower sometimes

rebellious and unapologetic.

I hope they love

and pray,

and see the sadness and glory

of tomorrow

like I did.