you hang in the cut out
snowflakes above my bed
watching and waiting
for a wind to ruffle you

you hide in the hardness
under my bed
behind the objects that
dont get every day use

you sit in the closet
across from my window
where light is rare
unless left open

you wait in my mirror
for me to glance
upon my own eyes
holding your sadness

this is all you've left me with
how is this love fair