We look the same but do not rhyme [poem]

The air of heirlooms whispers as I crouch
beneath the staircase where no human touch
has stirred the dust in all the time that's gone
since first we died, since everything was done

A birthday card, a frame, a china bear,
signifiers all: the hope, the fear, 
the memories of what we thought was love
still silent where we hoped they would not move

And yet I stretch, disturb and thereby cough
but fail to hold, I cannot see it through:
I run instead to versify this scheme
like us, we looked the same but did not rhyme


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