our new house

when we moved into this house,
i never thought death
would move in here with us.

but there he is
staring at me from the tiny hole
in the bathroom floor where the ants come in.

i still can’t believe
he unpacked his stuff in her nursery.

i catch myself sometimes
sitting in the rocking chair with henry
all of a sudden remembering
these walls should have been pink.

i hear a chuckle from the bathroom.
death, it seems, like to mock me
even long after he has made himself at home.

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