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.