this museum isn’t open to the public.

i steep fading memories

in wildflower tea,

walk through vacant rooms

where stale air clings to my skin,

the smell of moths and medicine,

reminders

suspended above,

empty frames on amber walls

in a house filled with little more than silence

you made saying goodbye an art form,

vases full of fallen petal promises,

masterpieces inside every room,

and me, with my own private viewing

– ashley jane