text: Now that the furnitures returning to its Goodwill home
  With dishes in last weeks papers, rumours and elections, crosswords, an unending war
  That blacken our fingers, smear their prints on every door pulled shut
  Now that the last months rent is scheming with the damage deposit
  Take this moment to decide 
  If we meant it, if we tried 
  Or felt around for far too much
  From things that accidentally touch 
  Hands that we nearly hold with pennies for the GST
  The shoulders we lean our shoulders into on the subway, mutter an apology
  The shins that we kick beneath the table, that reflexive cry
  The faces we meet, one awkward beat too long, and terrify
  Know that the things we need to say 
  Have been said already anyway 
  By parallelograms of light 
  On walls that we repainted white 
  Sun in an empty room
  Take eight minutes and divide 
  By ninety million lonely miles 
  And watch the shadow cross the floor 
  We dont live here anymore