forgotten spoon

a spoon

left in the sink

half wet

half dry

water mark like a map

to nowhere

(continents of soap

oceans of rust)

i touch it

cold as a stranger’s hand

but lighter

as if it never fed anyone

the window hums

with traffic outside

but the spoon

is louder

in its silence

once it stirred sugar

now it stirs memory

the kind you don’t swallow

the kind that lingers

at the back of the tongue

so I leave it there

in the sink

like a monument

to small things

that outlive us