she slept up through my window
her window glasses on
my reflection
was just
her
image


one she
never saw



she looked deep
into
my
eyes
her
favorite
colour pink

pretended not to notice
but we felt her when she blinked


one
black as coal
the whites
of
his
eyes
were
hollow


he watches me unfold


my pages will have no creases
her love for me remains
remains whole


we find in
her

only
comfort


there's no beauty
in
an
sheet that's been stained

until
it
rains

took my canvas to the launder
painted with all my past
come back
with
an
bolt


of
lightning
that could
cut through
diamonds
glass
in
my
haste
we have swallowed
scrptures from the past
she slept up through
my window
?