I miss you kitty.

we shall hear the whisper of an outlet of dreams

up to the lines of our bodies in the shadow

And Isabelle is sitting at the table, guiding her beautifully gentle hands across my coarse paper

I want you to know; it does not matter, it never has. I have wanted you to move on

bound and tied and hidden - you smile, almost candid

Isabelle says to me already gone, already gone

we were never here to begin with