worn away with waking
curtains wait for a breeze
so they can breathe again
light soaked into
a longed-for letter
never sent
never written
your flame throws bird shadows
over the walls of my heart
that have never known sky
you’re the leaves that foxtrot
with the tatters of a plastic bag
in the blustery corner of my deserted courtyard
become young again
twirled by the world-weary wind
that still remembers how to dance
the horizon howled
snow swept the streets
the susurrus
of your lost
long song
the smoke
of my soul
a candle burned
flame sunk
into the column
of its body
tears viscous
with lives lost
cum cloudy
with ghosts
of lives
never lived
your heart
more scar than tissue now
you’re scarring the scars
I think of the shadows we could have created
floorboards laid together
the seams of dark between us
thick with spilled stars
close the gate gentle
make it chime
close it like a delicate thing
as if just leaving
looking in
upon a sleeping child
isn’t that how hearts
should be handled
footsteps made faint
by grass
no knock required
no doorbell
rattling the rooms
just the soft cry
of a rusted hinge
I sunbathed
in your shadow
stilled by all the sunlight
held in your skin
stories to temper steel to
when the story falls silent
the folds folded
asleep inside the blade