nest: all of this and nothing
First she brought a toothbrush. Like a twig from another tree, she brought.
Next thing I knew, the drawers of my cupboard were full of her underwear, shower knobs drying slips and my t-shirts squeezed beneath hers. Creams, makeup, colorful shoes; a slow and steady process of colonization of my solitude, justified on hope.
Nest, I felt - we had. A fragile and delicate construction made of exceptional objects brought from here and there, patchy and chaotic as love.
Her flight left me full of strange objects. Space, once familiar, became radically unknown.