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.