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