Beyond the measure,
There was rose.
I peeked.
When you moved to brush your hair.
Inside, I applaud the excuse to exit the room.

But I lain;
Third floor, Galena.
A place holder of Summer's filth.
I wanted to break down
For everything I had lost and gained up until that point.

Now towards the window,
There were rows
When I peaked.
To the brim with truest doubts in fist.
"I guess this is how it boils down."

And through rose ash, suffused,
Crack a smile.
He lacked the merit you hoped,
To just find fault.

I stood between the distance of a year.
Just to feel the dissipation of what
You weren't willing to part with.