6
.30 on the dot
Every night for seven years
I pulled a blue ring place from the second shelf
Set one at my place, one across
Even though the chair's been empty since last October
The fork still goes on the left knife blade
And the way you liked,
the way you teased me for learning
I catch myself pouring two glasses of water
Then pouring back slow like I'm in committing a crime
Muscle memory is the cruelest kind of ghost
It never asks permission before it walks
through I still said two places at this table
Even though you took your laugh with you when you left
I'd eat in silence,
staring at the chair you used to spin
Round and round when the snow was good and you felt safe
Now it just sits there perfectly still Like
it's waiting for a girl who isn't coming home
Two forks,
one plate Zero mercy,
love's a habit I can't break
So I feed it every night with an empty
chair And a second helping of heartbreak
Tonight I made your mother's lasagna
The one you begged for every birthday
It tastes exactly the same And some are like nothing at all
I'll talk to you anyway Tell you about the leak under the sink
Got a dog still chasing side of the bed I laugh at my own jokes
Then remember you're not here to roll your eyes
The heaven timer goes off I blinch like it's a gunshot
I keep thinking if I do everything
right One night you'll walk back in
Starving and say, smells good babe, save me some
I said two places at this table Even
though the mail stopped coming in your name
I leave the porch light on Just in case you
forget your key again like you always did
The chair has us spun in four hundred nights But I
swear I still feel the breeze when I close my eyes
Two forks,
one plate Zero mercy,
I'm dying with the shape of what we were
Pretending the silence is you listening
Sometimes I sit in your chair instead
Try to see the room the way you saw it
Pretending the wall from the night we fought
About money to fall over the fridge when
we're both laughing so hard we're crying
I spin in one slow The legs squeak,
the exact same note
And for three full seconds Hear your thin brother remembers
Then I'm alone again with two
forks And a heart that won't stop setting the table
Tomorrow I'll say two places,
places at this table Even though I know how the story ends
I'll eat cold leftovers staring at the chair that
hasn't moved since you stopped being happy here
Maybe one night I'll only say one
Maybe that's when I'll know I'm healed
But tonight the second plate stays Because letting it go
feels like burying you all over again
Two forks,
one plate And the quietest kind of prayer
That habits can't be graves Or maybe they can be doorways
I'm just not ready to walk through yet
I clear my sight,
leave yours untouched Crawl in a bed,
still tasting garlic and regret
Tomorrow I'll do it all again
Because some ghosts
are just the people we love
Sitting in the chairs,
we can't stop setting for them
Good night,
baby
Your water's getting warm