What if I told you the pretty dresses you wear could be mine
that I used to put the plates and bowls in a different cupboard
and the drawer you fill with measuring spoons and frosting tips
used to be where I’d put the mail I didn’t feel like opening.
What if I told you the window in the basement by the laundry
still sticks a little, but will open with just the right amount of force
and the door that leads to your backyard and lawn furniture
is usually unlocked even when you’re not home.
What if I told you how I move quietly through your hallways
that I creep across your bedroom floor to get a closer look
at the precious things that you’ve lined up on your dresser
and that I knocked one over once, just to leave my mark.
Florence McCambridge lives, writes, breathes, and contemplates in Toronto. She spends most of her time reading, baking, and chasing her dog, Finnegan, around the house. He likes to steal socks, that cheeky terrier. Florence has had work published in The Globe and Mail, Dead Housekeeping, and Twisted Endings. Twitter: @FlorenceMcC