Sometimes I Think Of You

Sometimes
I think of you when I see flowers,
when I see frothy lattes and crotchet blankets
(yours is still on my bed).
I think of you when I hear a Beatles song
or about that baseball game where the Yankees beat the Rays,
still hear your claps when the Giants score a touchdown.
I think of you when I come across Harry Potter books or Sorting Hat quizzes,
when I hear firecrackers and Trivium.
And no matter how delicious, nothing compares to that famous
I Brought The Fruit Salad.
Pieces of you embedded in me,
your hearts were part of my home.
But that was all torched,
burnt right down to the bare bones.
Stripped to the core of all that I loved,
I became my own charred-frame-of-an-abode
right where you used to be.
Sometimes
I think of you when I think of a cozy home washed away
into the sea.