mug, which sports
a faded Les Mis logo,
resting always
to my right on the knotty
table by the window:
yours is a presence
like non other in my life—
a sturdy, heavy,
shining silence,
content to hold space
for the voids
in my appetites—and though
relentlessly accommodating,
you cannot
contain multitudes
or keep me organized—
you are pleased
to be hollow,
you are wholeness
in situ—
and yet
still, you invite me each day
to complete you.
