window leaning on an old book the cold winter air
spilling into the room like it has been waiting for years
for this moment, starless sky and illuminated hands
colored blotches speaking in the hushed tone of
unobtrusive shades
there is a single cigarette packed away in the stories
and trinkets, it is whispering sweet nothings
in my ear

and you
you have been lurking in the hallways
your hands, thumbprints, lips
etched into the window glass
so every time i look to see the world
you will be there

Your bittersweet presence
brushes chalk dust across my skin
because i desire you here
but i think that is all