his skin was paper
and her blood was watercolor paint.
he slept with peas beneath his mattress
but felt pins in his spine,
while she feels that dreaming in color
is a waste of her time.
she sleeps with the pauper while the peeping toms look from the rafters in the half moon sky.
he still remembers Polaroid pictures and watching the news
while mom and dad snoozed on paper sofas
in a house of cards
with cardboard walls.
and he left it all
for a girl whose aunt was killed by a drunk driver in a parking lot.