The Divorce
She first vanished from the messages on the fridge,
gone with the sticky yellow notes of random love.
Then from the breakfast table, leaving a full bowl of
soggy cereal beside the folded Lifestyle section.
Her car started flickering in the driveway, like an
errant glitch on our television screen.
The dog found a home on her pillow, his head
cocked towards a door that now seldom opened.
There is an album with her name on my Camera Roll.
It is empty.