Where your sky is bleached ivory white.

I see where I’ve wounded you many times.


I am a thorn as you walk by, sip your blood as I puncture you slight.ly




In your plastic, icy widows. I see clear where I have torn into your night worn dreams.

Wintered to the touch, I try to hold you. I am broken into fragments of velvet rain.

That simply fall off your skin to form a puddle you step in.





Wear your uniformed faces, as you pass the world by in (skipping-record pace.
And I will hold off on tireless goodbyes


For the good time
being.