More Than What Happened

Last box leaning by the kitchen door
Fridge unplugged, don't hum anymore
There's a pale square where the picture hung
I keep looking like I missed something

Run my thumb through the cut in the table
One sharp edge I never sanded down
Tilt it sideways, get it through the doorway
Careful not to scrape the paint again

I wrote “kitchen” on the packing tape
Stood there staring at the word
Like there might be another kitchen
Where that crash was never heard

I'm more than what happened
But it happened to me
Some nights it's just a table
Some nights I leave my seat

I don't have to call it nothing
I don't have to call it home
I'm more than what happened
Even when it won't let go

It can come with me
It can't choose where we go

You backed the truck up over the grass
Said, “Want this table?” I almost laughed
Had my mouth around the word “no”
Then I took my end and we walked it slow

In the new place, one leg wouldn't settle
You folded a receipt to make it level
We ate cold noodles straight from the carton
I laughed with my mouth full
Didn't see it coming

Then a plate slipped out of your hand

I was back there
Before it hit

You stayed by the counter
Didn't tell me I was fine
Just asked me where the broom was

I said,
“Give me a minute.”

Then I helped you find it

I'm more than what happened
And it happened to me
Some nights it's still that table
Tonight I take my seat

There's a mark beneath my elbow
There's a plate beside your own
I'm more than what happened
I don't have to eat alone

You ask if I want coffee
I say, “Yeah. I'll put it on.”

Same cut in the table
Different kitchen light

I leave my cup beside it

For the morning this time