for Heather
Sandalwood smoke through lavender
stems and dim sunlight filtered
through elm leaves, half-lidded
blinds, and the dust motes
your house made from our leftover
flesh and fur. We were the dander-
lions, shedding ourselves
little fluff balls, mighty manes
falling stranded on the tiles.
I never minded a little dust
knowing it was just a little
us, remainders, reminders
of living so much we scattered
ourselves like blue through leaves.
