The crows spent the entire night on your roof.

They have swallowed the moon, and rested on the curtain. Soil and death lingered on their feet, as if ready to take their final clutch.

I flinched as you lifted the lid. You can almost imagine me down here, I suppose, yellowed by the hanging street light which warmth had abandoned after fireflies found a sanctuary in its suspended cold feet. I'm afraid I can only last until morning, but I will still love you until then.

Please, leave a gap on your window.

Let the breeze enter; I will part the wind
and I will slip past your curtain.

I will lie with you
and we will exchange battered whispers.

I will alter the stars
and we will dismember the hours.
We will defy infinity.


**We will disappear.