By Lilly Purdy
What a relief it will be to finally hear the latch of your ever-slammed front door. You’ve made me jealous, you know—of plastic figures and computer parts. Of the ornaments we used to hang together, now dulled by your smoke, and the old coins you polished as if they could’ve loved you back. Do sauce-stained containers look like homes through your weathered eyes? On the day that old shack collapses back into you, the neighbors will watch as I cry on the lawn, and they won’t know the nature of my tears. I hope you know that I won’t either.
Interesting, You’ve constructed a character,a hoarder, thru the narrative of another. Well done. I liked the line .”…polished as if they could love you back “
^through