In a box. lies secrets
four
lines that may, unfold the truth.
like his spin.
a straight line.
while he laid there in his sleep,
a quietness
washed up. and touched my windows
it swam through the rays of
warm midnight lights,
that sailed off his skin.
eye lids,
once. pennies in my well.
sinking in the sheets, confined
in the light. of a space.
I no longer knew.
a face.
with such distance.
for weeks
we slept in this box,
a partition of
love.
bit by bit my skin began to leak out of
the cracks.
watching. each particle.
drift a dance to flee.
Beyond lied a blinking
blinding
sign outside. my window.
It read:
Vacant
I left the room.