Fingers—
laced in glow spill, dusk-slick.
tiny suns,
trembling—bodies of light,
trapped.
pulse-thrum,
hush-black air—
soft hymns flickering,
pleas pressed to glass,
breath-fogged, burning.
whispered tomorrow—
honey-thick, guilt-laden,
beauty begged to be held.
dawn—
bled dry.
cold palms, hollowed vessel,
absence like ruin.
I lied to the glass.
worse—
I stole their dying light.
& now—
I bear their afterglow
like a wound that refuses to dim.