across the darkened sea
of my id
places we keep things, or
make a warm drink, to soothe
a troubled kitchen
The teapots of comfort, where
I keep my memories
days out, bus tickets, past loves
trapped thoughts
images of relatives missed
to death
The teapots of comfort, march
like a Red Square parade, across
the shelves, a collection
collected
by someone else to fill
her empty life...