You left your hands in the fridge
not sure if it was by accident
or if you expected me to take them out for you
the next morning. But the next morning
you were gone
and your hands were still there
and I didn't know what
I was supposed to do with them.
I secretly hoped
you would come back for them
and when month after month passed
and you didn't, I realized
I had to do something.
I couldn't bear seeing them
every time I opened the door.
I found myself skipping meals
or else eating out
but I could still hear them in there
scuttling around among the condiments
scratching to get out and caress me
in a way they never did
when they were attached to you