split in taste-
downstairs there is colour.
passion
tribal motifs and sun-washed orange.
upstairs? a more muted affair-
stocky floral borders carve peach walls
old furniture on the verge of mould sits-
a temporal mistake.
split in mood-
cheer and optimism tends to rise
bubble balloons up and up.
but there it is
me
a restless cloud covering the landing
with the threat of teary rain.
i overhang the balcony
an exhausted sunset flagging down
the night
heavy dark. sink in on itself
absence, absence.
what is downstairs doesn't venture up
into such an airless atmosphere.