The first I know about you
Is your scent. It never ceases to amaze
How different two rooms can smell
Just from the body that's been in there,
Splashing against the shower screen
And rubbing in the sheets.
Looks like you have asthma,
Or you have anxiety or similar since
There's Sertralin tablets on the bathroom's
Glass shelf. The tang of a cigarette
Stains the air.
I make up the bed where you have been lying
Defenceless, and where you will
Lie down tonight. You were alone
And drank wine, some kind of shiraz.
Your preference is for tea over coffee, no sugar.
I'm in your chair, though it can be mine, too.
I spend enough time in here, after all.
The smells linger, like close hot breath,
Something of you is still here, in the dust.
Next time you hear me,
Or meet me or one of my soldiers
(For this is an army, many and invisible),
You will wonder who, you will wonder what
Stories we tell of you. What we learn and see of you,
And when we knock to say, housekeeping.