He slid his picture next to hers.
To dust the spaces beneath it.
Let the corners of the frames touch.
Left them together, to see if she would smile.

Pointless spring cleaning.
Her picture was collecting dust.
He held her name so tight behind his teeth-
He forgot he needed to breathe.

You wandered the room.
Entered through the doorway.
Fluently floating, and timidly tracing.
Your temporal frame, your transient shape.
Your obsession with perfection and your warm cordial face.

I noticed bite marks on your arms and legs,
they were red and freshly laid.
You shouldn't go where you aren't safe.
The world can be a horrid place.

When I looked into your eyes,
They were dead and  they were cloudy.
I haven't seen or heard a thing scream dread so loudly.
I can see it in your soul, I can see in your consonance.
And if this what your future is, I don't want a part of it.

She went into Winter-
But sprung into Spring-
Her Summer was something-
So she fell into fall.