• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 05

Simple

Saw the way he tugged
at your scent,
swept you toe-eyed loose
to the nips,
slope of brokered
whoops, to the halt of light
above the door, needling
points to
home and heart,
the sound of fingers on glass,
fragile instruments tapping
all wavery, hopeful,
but less silver
that tip the moment
open, or close,
the same way blinks, he,
missing letters or worse,
or is it for better or worse?
Saw the way he helped
atone
the way he cares

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