sitting on the living room floor
in the same position we'd have sat
if the sofa had been there
we took up our usual places
you up one end
me the other
the room is totally empty
except for us
and two mugs of tea
your last remnants
removed by two men
with cockney accents
tattoos
face masks
and a white box van
we spent months
clearing your possessions
every box
every drawer
every cupboard
we've cried together
we've cried alone
we've thought of you
and smiled
these last fragments gone
carried out the back door
by strangers
separate us further from you
and now there's no comfort
this isn't home anymore
emptiness drains me
further
further still
we didn't take the kitchen clock
the one that ticked so loudly
when pain shut out words
couldn't bring ourselves to move it
to touch it even
so there it will stay
alone
ticking