i
  After
  she was in the ground,
  sent off to,
  god knows where,
  we returned to the house
  and sorted through 
  the scent 
  of her.
  
ii 
  Our inheritance, 
  like medicine,
  had been dispensed
  long before.
  
iii
  I got the china, her fur coat,
  her original
  wedding band, 
  too big 
  for my finger, 
  it slid free 
  down 
  the drain.
  
iv
  Later my sister said, 
  she told  me 
  you 
  were 
  her  favorite.
  
v
  I sank 
  into the edge 
  of my parents' bed,
  not even pulling 
  back the hand crocheted 
  bedspread, 
  like we were taught, 
  could barely mumble,
  I never
  once 
  felt
  that.
  
vi
  It was as if 
  my mother and I 
  like forgotten pots 
  boiling
  on the back burner,
  had reduced each other
  to vapor.
  
vii
  Could it have been 
  we stood 
  our whole lives,
  a solid core 
  door 
  between us,
  each of us 
  on opposite sides 
  screaming
  let
  me 
  in?
  
viii
  After the funeral,
  I took my sister's words, 
  as if they were relics of
  bone, clipped 
  nails,
  a strand 
  of hair,
  and packed up 
  my car trunk with them,
  not knowing what
  else to do with them,
  and set off 
  to god knows where.