0011

These four walls
of blue shades
playing witnesses
hearing promises
the sound of laughter
and ringing tears

Chills
The pace of air
four black blades, echoes
I hate
along with this Single heartbeat
laying on this single mattress

So many months
of collective dust,
on my open black shelve
you are there
standing charmed and framed
along with old postcards, books
and my favorite succulents,
named Remy, betty, and lucy

nothing much has changed since you'd gone
I'm turning a year older and you too
the world is still in the midst of a virus
that's that and I think you knew...






,u12