But her tiger eyes
--he recognized them at once--
Would not break, would not rip
--apart the gossamer webs that
smothered her chest--the one that
still remembers the smell of
petrichor and that aroma that she
still can't put her finger on, the
soft grey one that spoke of lovely thunderstorms
and sunshine snuggles and--

And she reminded herself just
in time, before the void swallowed her
(whole, jagged edges and all) into its
gaping mouth lined with shining teeth that glittered
--the mask he wore while masquerading
through the ball of her life, until
one day she saw--
Really saw.

But still, the chest looked forlorn,
sitting amidst the echoes of a past not
worth remembering, so she took
one
last
look.

*And she shut the door.